Bubblegum Crisis: A Deviant's Days
by Purple Knight Saber
Summary: The year 2057 is drawing to a close. To look forward to the future, 19-year-old Yumeko Asagiri is forced to take stock of her past -- moments both major and innocuous.
1. Waterproof

Usual warning applies: if you haven't read Next Gen, FTA, or Half Moon yet, GO BACK AND READ THEM FIRST.

I was initially afraid that I had written myself into a corner with the way I ended Half Moon. But then I got the idea in my head for this story, "A Deviant's Days." After stewing over it for a few months, I figured what the heck, I'd go ahead and put it down. So here's the result. I hope everyone enjoys it. Written between October 2008 and January 2009. Rated M for language and references to certain events in Half Moon.

* * *

It was an unusually slow night at the bar I'd been frequenting lately. I was the only one sitting at the bar, halfway through my bottle of Bud, while three guys behind me were shooting their second round of pool. One guy at a table by the wall was yelling at the TV, which was broadcasting an NFL playoff game via satellite. I was sure he must have been the only one in the world that wasn't aware that the real game had been played yesterday, and so everyone knew the outcome. Or maybe he did know, and was just yelling at the players, hoping they'd somehow hear him and change the already-known outcome.

I took a sip of my beer and watched him in silent amusement. It was like watching a favorite episode of a TV show. You watch it over and over again, hoping maybe just this time, so-and-so character won't get killed off, that she'll somehow live. But it still ends the same, and you still cry the same way you did the first time you saw it. Ah, the story of my life, except I couldn't go back in time and change anything, no matter how badly I wanted to. And replaying certain events in my mind, I always wondered, with the benefit of hindsight of course, how I could've done certain things differently, how I could've changed the outcome of my own playoff game.

In the playoffs, the loser is out for the season. Luckily for me, in my version of the playoffs, I was always back and ready for the next round. I suppose I was more like the guys behind me with their game of pool, not keeping score, but just having fun. In my version of pool, I didn't have to keep score either. All I had to do was make sure everyone I was facing was dead, no matter how many there were.

Maybe my Knight Saber name should have been 8-Ball. Just as you never want to get the eight-ball in the pocket, you wouldn't want a Boomer messing with me. Oh no. Any Boomer toying with me would be royally screwed, even if I did sometimes get knocked around like the other balls. But in the end, I was always the one left standing. Couldn't put me in a damn pocket.

Saber 8-Ball. I almost laughed out loud just thinking about it. Instead, I just smiled to myself and took another pull from my Bud. With any luck, my days of shooting pool with Boomers were over. The last battle, five months ago, had ended with me blowing up the OMS, and with it, any hopes of Quincy terrorizing the city into submission. That was the hope, at least. Emi had promised me she'd destroyed all blueprints and such of the OMS before that last mission and my having to blow her up, and so far, she seemed to have made good on that.

Still, this was me. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. A five-month lull didn't mean anything. Mom and my aunts had waited nineteen years. If Boomers ever showed up again, they'd be too old to go out and fight; as it was, Sylia was forty-seven, and Nene, as the youngest besides me, was forty-three. Even the football players playing the game on TV would have retired by then. I would be the only one left, unless Sylia was to go out and recruit more girls to be Knight Sabers.

A bunch of teenage girls as the new Knight Sabers? It sounded like a bad TV show. Frankly, I would've rather sat out. I wanted those days to be over with. This was my time to just be a normal girl.

Although, being nineteen and having spent my formative teenage years as a Knight Saber, I still had yet to figure out what being normal meant. Having a drink after work was normal, right? Shooting pool was normal, wasn't it? Moving away from the big city to try to grasp the idea of normalcy, was that normal too?

I sighed and took in another mouthful of Bud. Somehow, I had the feeling I'd be wondering the rest of my life what normal really was. Because even now, I felt anything but.

* * *

"Bubblegum Crisis – A Deviant's Days"

Written by Amanda Stair

* * *

"C'mon, you son of a bitch! Throw the damn ball!!"

I shook my head and smirked. The lone guy watching the football game was more entertaining to watch than the game itself. If I had known the outcome of the game, I could've told him what was going to happen, but I didn't, so I couldn't. All I knew was the obvious, that it was the 49ers against the Seahawks. Another smirk crossed my lips as I thought about Tyler back in Sacramento. He had been a big football fan, and although I had never sat down to watch a game with him, I knew enough that he was a diehard 49ers fan. He'd probably been hollering at the TV when the game was live yesterday much like the guy tonight was. Except this guy was obviously a Seahawks fan.

"FUMBLE?! You're kidding me!! Oh God," he groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"They can get it back," I said.

"Yeah, and run it back eighty-five yards for a touchdown with the two-minute warning just up?!" he spat, more to himself than to me. "We're screwed."

I shrugged to myself. Stranger things had happened, I guess. Tyler had mentioned something to me called the Heidi Rule, whatever that was. I hadn't cared enough to listen to his explanation though. Ironically, me being a gymnast, I just wasn't that big of a sports fan. Hell, even gymnastics matches could put me to sleep sometimes if the gymnasts weren't that great.

The guys behind me racked the balls for their third game of pool, while the guy yelling at the TV quietly sobbed as his team lost, mumbling something about how he'd never see them win a Super Bowl in his lifetime at this rate. I smirked and took another small pull of my Bud, now almost empty. There was always next year.

The bartender cleaned the inside of a large mug with his rag, whistling a tune, presumably used to these sorts of antics from the football fan.

I swirled the beer around in the bottom of the bottle. Once I finished this off, I'd go ahead and call it a night and get some sleep.

And then a guy charged through the front door of the bar, brandishing what looked like a large semi-auto.

"Ok, peeps! Nobody move!" he bellowed, pointing it first at the guys at the pool table, who jumped back and put their hands up, then at the startled bartender, who put down his mug and did likewise. The robber strode up right next to me and shoved the gun in the bartender's face. "I want all the money in the drawer. NOW!!"

I swirled the beer around in my mouth, watching lazily.

"Ok. Ok," the bartender breathed, nodding slowly. "You can have it. Just stop pointing that thing at me."

"Alright." He sneered and aimed at the football fan, who promptly retreated into the far back corner of the bar, then pressed the gun against my temple. "How about her?"

"God, no!" he pleaded. "She's a kid!"

"Then get me the fucking money!!" He tossed a bag at the bartender to fill up. He nodded quickly, and with trembling hands, opened up the cash register and began dumping the money from the drawer into the bag, along with the credit card slips on the robber's command.

He turned and focused on me. Despite having a gun to my head, I hadn't budged at all. In fact, I took another sip of my beer.

"You've made your peace, I take it?" he sneered, clearly amused at my cool composure. "Oh, I get it. You're too scared to do anything. Trying to pretend I'm not even here. That it?"

"Nope," I said.

"Then what?" He turned to the bartender, who was handing him the bag of money and slips. "Oh, and a case of Yebisu."

"S-sure." He bent down and grabbed a case, setting it on the counter. "Is…is that all?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then please, don't shoot her."

"He ain't gonna do shit even if he does," I told him.

"The hell you talkin' about?" the robber demanded.

"It's a paintball gun, you putz."

"Like hell it is!" He pressed the barrel against my temple again, but I didn't flinch. Instead, I actually stood up and faced him, grabbing the barrel.

"At this range, it might sting a little, and I'll probably spend an hour or two cleaning the paint out of my hair. But you're not gonna be sending my brains splattering on the floor, oh no. Trying to rob a bar with a paintball gun? C'mon." I took out my Spitdevil and pulled the slide back, casually taking aim at him. "Now THIS. This IS a real gun, but if you wanna try to take me on with that thing, go right ahead. I don't mind if I have to shoot you to prove a point." I let go of the barrel and did a roundhouse kick, sending the gun flying from his hands and smacking against the bar, dropping to my feet.

The robber stumbled several steps back, dropping his bag. I grabbed it and tossed it to the bartender, then picked up the paintball gun and took aim at him with it, firing off several volleys. Three rounds hit him square in the chest, sending yellow paint exploding over his shirt and jacket, leaving several nice bright-colored blotches.

"Ignorant bastard," I said, grinning. "This was my model of choice whenever I played paintball with my friends. Nice try though. Anybody who's not familiar with guns might have actually thought this was real." I looked at the bartender. "No offense."

"Oh, none taken," he said quickly.

I took aim with my Spitdevil again. "Now, you really want to know whether this is real or not?"

The robber shook his head vehemently. "No, no. I believe you, I believe you. For God sakes, don't shoot me. I've got kids at home!"

"Oh, and I suppose you have to feed them and that's why you're robbing one of the smallest bars in Minobu, right? If you wanted to get some real money you'd have been better off robbing a liquor store or a Glory Bank branch, not this place. Not that you'd survive the trip home, of course, if you robbed Glory, but I think you get my drift."

He nodded again.

I continued while the bartender called the police. "I gotta admire your guts. You did have some, until you saw MY gun. Now THIS is something you'd want to rob a place with. It's got a fingerprint reader, so even if someone takes it away they can't use it on you. And a mask. C'mon, man, every robber wears a ski mask or at least a fake mustache or something. You're giving yourself away here! And I sure hope you didn't come here on foot, 'cause one of us could've ambushed you while you made your getaway. And coming alone? Another mistake. Every bad guy has to have an accomplice. Going it alone just isn't done anymore!"

I rattled off all of the robber and bad-guy stereotypes I could think of, keeping him busy until the police showed up, by which time I pocketed my gun to avoid getting arrested myself. I'd probably have been hit with a worse charge than him if they saw me waving around my Spitdevil. Anyway, after I had my statement taken and the guy was in handcuffs, I decided I'd had enough fun for the evening and took my leave.

"Next time you're in, Yumeko, the drinks are on me!" the bartender called out.

I smiled. "Thanks. I'll take you up on that." As I walked by the would-be robber, I patted him on the shoulder. "By the way, thanks for that. That was the most entertainment I've had in weeks. Try it again when you get out, huh?"

I walked out the door, whistling a tune, while the robber looked utterly humiliated.

* * *

I replayed the scene over and over in my head as I got home, the cold December air hitting my face as I pulled off my helmet. It may have been boring compared to a Boomer battle, but what I'd said was true; it was the most fun I'd had in weeks. I guess that said something about my standards of fun. But nobody got hurt, except perhaps the robber's pride, so it all turned out all right.

I took in a big gulp of air and smiled as I walked through the front door of my house and looked around. No matter how often I was here, the thrill of knowing this all belonged to me never changed. A real house, not just a shoebox-sized apartment; roughly 1,200 square feet, with a large living room, a full-sized kitchen, two bedrooms – one mine, one for other purposes – and something of a dual bathroom. After a certain incident in July, I hadn't been sure I'd ever be able to take a shower again. So, when I was drawing up plans for the house, I made sure to get a Japanese-style bathroom installed, complete with furo. Still, I also had a regular shower installed, accessible through a door on the left side of the bathroom as well as another door in the hallway, if my amped-up hydrophobia ever abated.

So far, I'd had mixed results with that.

Today, I decided to try the regular shower. I stripped down, tossing my clothes and leg sleeve into the hallway before I stepped into the shower room and turned the shower on. I tested the temperature several times with my hand, adjusting it as necessary as the room slowly filled up with steam. I took a breath and stepped into the shower.

I instantly let out a shriek as the water poured over my head, and backed into a corner, away from the streaming water. I hugged myself and took several deep breaths. Damn it, this wasn't the same as that, I had to tell myself. At least this was hot water, not freezing cold with fans blowing on me in addition to that. At least I could step away. And at least it was just a shower and not a torrential downpour/waterfall like the torture had been.

_I can handle rain ok now,_ I thought. _Why not a damn shower?_

I stuck my legs under the flow of the water first, my body instinctively going stiff all over, then stuck the rest of my body under so that everything from the shoulders down was getting wet, but not my head. I sighed and closed my eyes, bowing my head as each tightened muscle, one at a time, slowly loosened. I could control a shower, damn it. I shouldn't have still been afraid of it after five months. Still, now that I had this house, at least I had the option of taking a bath instead of having to stick my head in the kitchen sink to wash my hair like I had for several months after the ASI incident. I didn't have to take a shower if I wasn't up to it. But enough was enough.

I put shampoo into my hair, building up a nice lather as I scrubbed it into my scalp. I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life taking Japanese-style baths just because two SOBs saw it fit to try to capitalize on something that was my major weakness, even if I tried not to let it on at the time. Even someone who hadn't been afraid of water before would be having the same problems as me, right? I'd faced down that robber with no problem; surely I could face down some measly water.

I stuck my head under the water, gritting my teeth as I hugged myself again, willing myself to stay under even as I dug my nails into my arms with the effort. The moment I was sure the shampoo was rinsed out, I retreated back to the corner of the shower stall, gasping for breath; I hadn't dared take one while I was under.

I repeated the same motions with the conditioner: lather, rinse, retreat. I didn't even bother using body wash this time; I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I turned off the water, then grabbed the two towels that were hanging on the nearby rack. I wrapped my head in one, my body in the other, then gasped loudly when I opened the door and the comparably cold air of the hallway hit me like a freight train. I dropped to my knees and put a hand to my chest, taking slow, deep breaths; in the midst of trying to outwit the water, I'd been having a panic attack.

I sat there, leaning against the door frame, until the panic attack subsided, which seemed to take forever but in reality was probably only a few minutes. On shaky feet, I stood and headed to my bedroom, drying my hair and changing into my usual nighttime attire of a nightshirt and boxer shorts, although since it was winter, I wore a long-sleeve nightshirt instead.

_Ah, leave it to me to make showering an adventure,_ I thought wryly. _And Mom says I used to LOVE water when I was little? Ho ho, it is to laugh. Ha ha._

It was an open secret of sorts all though school; in gym class, everyone had to take part in swimming, though early on I had quickly learned a way out, much to the annoyance and chagrin of whatever teacher I had. Whenever a swimming race was about to start, the moment the teacher would say "Go!" I would spin on my heel and goosestep away from the pool, nonchalantly whistling a tune. The other kids would laugh and cheer, and inevitably several times a year some other kids would toss me into the pool and dunk me, just to see me freak out. It continued up through high school as well, both my escapes and the dunking.

I'd always thought it was just a quirk of mine. Unfortunately, thanks to the ASI guys, my quirk wasn't just a quirk anymore. No longer could I just avoid pools and call it good. No, now I had to watch out for myself while just taking a friggin' shower.

Some quirk. An accidental quirk, you could say, given how it came about in the first place.

* * *

_**Sixteen years prior  
**__**July 6, 2041**_

In my history books, it was said that Native Americans practically taught their kids how to swim before they could even walk. I'd always thought that was crazy; if the kids couldn't even walk, how could they possibly have the strength and muscle control in their legs to propel themselves in the water? Alas, the people who held the answers to my questions had been dead for two centuries, so I would never know what was going through their heads. But in any case, Mom must have had a similar idea in mind. I never would have to worry about falling in a river, of course, not in Tokyo, but she seemed to want me to be able to swim from an early age. Since there was no tub in the apartment I shared with her up till recently, the moment I got too big to take a bath in the kitchen sink, she had me take a shower with her. So I learned early on not to mind having water in my eyes, or up my nose. In fact, Mom would say I relished it.

Once I turned two she had bought me a pair of water wings, so that whenever she was at Sylia's penthouse in the pool, I could be in there with her and the others. Sometimes, she would try to give me swimming lessons, holding my body up along the surface of the water and telling me to kick, walking in the pool, moving me along so that it looked like I was actually swimming. I would even beg her to hold me underwater with her while she swam from one end to the other, though as far as I know she never actually went from end to end, as I can't imagine a toddler would be able to hold her breath for that long.

I don't remember any of this myself. All that I know is what Mom and my aunts have told me over the years. Whether it was truth or an embellishment of it, I wasn't sure, but their stories always seemed to have a common thread, how much I loved the water.

So when did my anti-water – or anti-pool, at least – campaign begin? According to them, shortly after I turned three. That was when everything changed. It was an accident, Nene would tell me years later. A scary accident that no one thought I would remember or that would have any effect on me as I grew up. Apparently, they were wrong.

It was a normal summer day, Nene had said, and just as how many stories start out, it was an ordinary day like any other. Everyone was at the penthouse, out on the patio, enjoying the sun. Sylia had made lemonade and everyone was sitting around with a glass. Mom shared hers with me, and despite me initially not wanting any of it because it wasn't sweet enough, I got used to it and practically yanked the glass from her hands when I wanted more.

"You can't do that," she scolded. "If you want more, you need to say please."

"PLEASE gimme more lemonade," I begged.

"Ok, ASK and then say please."

"Can I have more lemonade pleeeease?"

"That's better." She held the glass up as I took a long sip from the straw.

"Mmmm!!"

"Careful," Linna laughed. "I know teaching manners is important, but if you don't watch it she'll end up being a prim and proper mini-Sylia!"

"Nah," Mom said with a grin. "Too much of my blood." She ruffled my hair. "Just about got that volleyball net set up yet?"

"Mackie's just about done. Right?" she called out in Mackie's direction. He was in the pool, setting up a net in the middle of the pool for a game of pool volleyball.

"One more sec!" he called back.

"Are you going to watch, Yumeko?" Linna asked me.

"I wanna play!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry, kid, you're too little. When you get a little older, we'll let you be on our side though. It can be us three against Nene, Sylia, and Mackie."

"Like our games at Survival Shot?" Mom snickered. "Too bad Sylia can't sacrifice Nene in this game."

"We can still pick on her though," Linna chuckled. "Just make sure you don't almost break her nose like you did last time."

"Hey, she's the one who needs to learn to serve the ball with something besides her face."

"I hear you!" Nene protested, walking outside along with Sylia. "And that was dumb luck! At least I'm better at this than I was with fighting Boomers!"

"Nene," Linna hushed.

"What're Boomers?" I piped up.

"Nobody, honey," Mom said, ruffling my hair again. "Don't you listen to a thing Aunt Nene says. She's just silly."

"I am NOT silly!!" she yelled.

I giggled. "Aunt Nene's silly."

"Priss, now look what you started!"

"You are," Mom deadpanned. "Especially when you see something cute like my daughter that you think you can add to your collection of stuffed animals."

"I stopped collecting those years ago!"

"You still have them in your bedroom though."

"So?"

Mom just shook her head and snickered.

"There!" Mackie announced, backing up in the pool. "All set up."

"All right!" Mom whooped. "Let's do this thing!"

Nene timidly walked up to me and bent down. "Oh, sweet sweet Yumeko. Tell me you're gonna be rooting for Nene and Sylia."

"I want Mama to win!" I said enthusiastically.

"Your mama?! But she's a big meanie to your Aunt Nene!" She pursed her lips. "Maybe if you cheer for me I can finally beat her. You know, I've lost every single time I've gone up against her in this game. You sure you don't want me to win just once?"

I thought for a moment, then said cheerfully, "Nope. I still want Mama to win. She's gonna kick your butt."

"Kick my butt?!" She spun around on Mom, who was already in the pool, only to get a finger wagged at her.

"Be glad she didn't say I'm gonna kick your _ass_," she said with a naughty, toothy grin. "'Cause you know that's what I'm gonna do."

"Priss--!!"

"Are we all ready?" Sylia said coolly, walking out onto the patio.

"Let's do it!" Linna cheered.

"Remember, Yume," Mom said, wading over to the side of the pool to whisper in my ear, "cheer for Mama, and hope that Nene royally screws up. You know how she acts whenever she messes up."

"Uh-huh. She's funny," I laughed.

"Sure is. Now stay back from the edge, ok? We're about to start."

I nodded eagerly and backpedaled several steps while Mom and the others took their positions, with Mackie sitting by the net on the opposite end of the pool, acting as referee. As he gave the signal, Linna served the ball, with Sylia quick on the return.

Now, me, as a toddler, of course I never kept score; at the time I could only count up to twelve anyway. Where the thrill laid for me was in seeing the ball travel from end to end, with everyone fighting to serve it over the net and keep it out of the water. If Nene messed up or hit the net or something, that was all the better. I ran from end to end and back over and over, following the ball's path, giggling and cheering loudly for Mom and Linna to hit it back. As the game went on, I was far from the only one laughing. Everyone else was laughing up a storm, and even when she missed the ball, Nene laughed too. I thought I even heard Sylia let out a few small laughs of her own.

"I got it!!" Nene yelled out as she slammed her fist into the ball to hurl it back over the net, but she ended up hitting it at an angle, and so instead of going over the net, the ball was sent smacking right into my forehead, sending me falling to the ground, landing on my behind.

"Oh shoot!" she yelped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Yume!" Mom gasped. "You ok?!"

I rubbed my forehead and winced, sitting up. Everyone stood stock still in the pool, frozen, mouths agape in horror, fully expecting me to start wailing.

"…But Linna said I wasn't playing," I finally whined.

Mom let out a sigh of relief and laughed. "No, sorry, you're still not in the game, honey. Blame Nene and her bad serve."

"I'm sorry, Yumeko! Forgive me!" Nene pleaded. "Are you hurt?"

"She better not be," Linna warned.

I jumped to my feet. "I'm ok! No boo-boos!"

Linna took the ball, which was laying at my feet. "Good, good." She turned to Nene. "Good serve. But aim it at us next time."

"I said sorry!" Nene protested.

I rubbed my forehead again, and Mom got out of the pool to take a look at me to make sure I really was okay before she got back in the pool and the game resumed. It went on as if nothing happened, and the rest of the game went on much the same as it usually did. In the end, Mom and Linna won again, much to Nene's chagrin, and as everyone was heading inside to eat the meal Sylia had already prepared, Mom made a joke about how Sylia had made out her 'payment' for losing already, as if she had expected it, which only annoyed Nene more. I didn't get the reference at the time, of course. All I was thinking about was the food.

I pointed back at the pool. "The ball's still in the pool."

"That's ok," Mom said. "We'll get it later."

Everyone headed inside, with me tailing right behind Mom. As far as she or anyone else knew, that was the last time anyone saw me. They didn't know when I slipped back outside afterwards, only that it was between then and when everyone had had their plates of food and were about to chow down.

It was after Mom had gotten her food that she realized I wasn't in the penthouse with them anymore. She walked around, calling my name, sure that perhaps I was just playing an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Having not found me, she went and walked outside, and immediately let out a scream, which brought everyone else running outside.

She could only guess that I had tried to get the ball out of the pool myself. If I had had my water wings on, I probably could have managed okay. But instead, she guessed perhaps the ball had been drifting by the edge and I tried to lean in to grab it and fell in. One of my feet got tangled in the volleyball net, and unable to free myself, I had thrashed about, unable to scream out for help, and when Mom had found me, I was completely submerged in the water, the sagging net the only evidence that I was in there at all.

She jumped into the pool and quickly got me untangled from the net, then dragged me out of the pool. I wasn't breathing. My face and fingers were already purple from lack of oxygen. She immediately started CPR on me while Nene ran into the house and called for an ambulance. Sylia helped with chest compressions while Mom took care of the breathing part, alternating breathing into my mouth with pleas for me to wake up, open my eyes, cry, anything.

She told me years later that it seemed like an eternity that she and Sylia were working on me. She was getting frantic, and Sylia finally ordered her to get back so Linna could take over the breathing. But just as Linna was about to breathe into my mouth, I began gagging, spitting out a mouthful of water as I rolled onto my side and started coughing.

"Yume," Mom cried, taking me into her arms, me still coughing heavily.

"Mama," I whined. "I falled in."

"We know," she sniffled. "I told you we could get the ball later. Later means _later_. Okay? Please don't do that again. You almost gave me a heart attack."

The paramedics arrived at that moment, and after examining me, they said that I was ok, and they quickly took their leave. Mom dried me off and made me swear to always have an adult around me when I was by the pool. I swore, and after that I was never alone at the pool.

The memory of the incident faded in my mind, but ever since then, the thought of having my head underwater terrified me. It embarrassed me, as the other kids in school obviously loved the pool. I thought I was a freak. I was eight when Mom reminisced about the accident to me, and I remembered thinking, _That's it? That's why I don't like water?_ It seemed like a stupid reason, an innocuous reason to be a hydrophobe. And yet my attempts over the years to overcome it never bore fruit. And little did I know that it would play such a large part in my life later on.

* * *

_**Present day  
**__**December 21, 2057**_

I sighed and stared at the ceiling, recalling Mom's story. I'd been three at the time, so of course I couldn't recall it myself. Even now, I thought it was a stupid reason for having the fear of water that I did. To this extent? All these years later? Of course the ASI torture hadn't helped matters, but for it to go as far as it did… It was embarrassing. Me, an Asagiri girl, being intimidated by something as innocent as water. Ha. Even Michiko had thought it was silly, until she had tried to drag me into Tokyo Bay on one of our summer trips to the beach and saw my reaction.

I listened to the wind howl outside my bedroom window. _Hmph. Better not snow tonight,_ I thought; heavy wind like this was usually a precursor to a winter storm. _But I guess my leg will warn me if it does._

Thinking of my leg made me remember I'd left my sleeve in the hallway with my clothes. Climbing out of bed, I shuffled out to the hallway and retrieved said sleeve, tugging it over my leg until it was secure over my thigh and knee. I bent my knee several times to make sure, then walked to the entranceway to the shower room, glaring at my new enemy. It was certainly taking longer than I'd anticipated to try to get over this latest hump, but at least I was trying.

"I'll beat you yet, you stupid shower. You son-of-a-bitch shower," I swore. "You haven't gotten the best of me. There's always tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. I'll get you."

I puffed my cheeks up in annoyance and headed back to my bedroom. Indeed, there was tomorrow. Which also entailed heading to work to beat a not-so-enthusiastic group of wanna-be gymnasts into submission.


	2. Balancing act

_**Present day  
**__**December 22, 2057**_

This time of year, my leg seemed to work as a better alarm clock than my real one did. At about the same time each morning, it would start aching, and if I didn't get up right away, the ache would only increase in intensity, almost to the point where it was like a Charley horse, forcing me to get out of bed to stretch it out. Unfortunately, the time my leg alarm would go off was usually around 5 AM, earlier than I liked to be up by, but at least this way I suppose I couldn't use sleep as an excuse to get out of my morning jog.

Holding a piece of bagel between my teeth, I took a look outside. The grass and dirt outside was covered in a fine layer of frost, signaling to me I better bundle up for today's jog. After finishing my bagel, I got dressed in long pants, a sweater, coat, hat, boots, mittens, and leg warmers. My leg sleeve, hidden under my pants, of course completed the ensemble. By the time I headed outside at 5:30 for my jog, the sun was starting to show the slightest hint of its presence on the horizon, just enough for me to see the puffs of breath in front of me as I started out on my jog at a leisurely pace.

By the time I got down the hill and into town, I deemed my leg warmed up enough to be able to handle a full-on jog, so I picked up the pace, pumping my arms back and forth at my sides as I headed down the street. Very few people were out this early in the morning, but those that were were people I always saw on my daily jogs, and they, used to seeing me as well, said "Good morning" to me as I passed, me nodding in acknowledgment.

The cold air was invigorating. It always forced me to go at a faster pace if I wanted to keep myself warm, and the air stinging my face, if I was still half-asleep, was always enough to jerk me to a fully alert state. Even when there was snow on the ground – which on this day there wasn't – I would try to go for the jog anyway, albeit at a walking pace rather than a jogging pace. Walking through the snow itself was exercise enough; Linna had drilled that into my head. It was a form of resistance training, she said, much like walking around in a swimming pool. Not that I was likely to walk around in a pool, of course, but the message stuck with me all the same.

By the time I got back to my house, it was 6:30 and I had logged about six or seven kilometers for the day. Going that far in an hour was slow by Linna's standards, but then again, I wasn't running in a race or for my life, so I didn't care. Plus the last two kilometers were uphill. Try running at full speed like that. I stripped off my coat and promptly went to the bathroom to lather up my face in lotion, having been stripped dry by the air, then went back to the kitchen to load up on some fruit and another bagel. I put on my coat again, then headed back outside, this time to get on my bike and head to work.

I had agonized for a while over a name for my gym, and wanted to do without Linna's hundreds of suggestions that she had. But finally, two weeks before it was due to open, I had hit upon the perfect one, and even she had thought it was clever. I dubbed it the Genki Dash. "Genki dashite" means "cheer up," but "genki" by itself means "energy," and the English word "dash" had a similar sound to "dashite," so I substituted that. Hence the Genki Dash. My home away from home.

I unlocked the front doors to the gym and flung them open, taking in a large gulp of air. It had been open for a little over a month, but still, it gave me the same thrill as my house did whenever I entered it, knowing that it was all mine. I didn't have anybody hovering over my back telling me whether I was too hard on my students or not. I could be as hard on them as I wanted, although I had found it ironic that Linna had said I was too hard on the students at her Beehive gym when she had been the one to ride my ass hard when she was first training me as a gymnast, back as a pre-teen.

_You drove me to it, Linna,_ I laughed in my head as I headed to the locker room to change into my leotard and tie my hair back properly. _I'll ride them just like you rode me._

"Good morning!" a singsong voice called out to me as I strode out to the main area, clad in my usual dark green leotard, hair tied back in a ponytail, bands tied every few inches to keep it neat.

"Didn't think you'd make it in time, Clara," I joked.

"Hey, the drive wasn't that bad," she protested. "Still, I'm surprised you came here on your bike. Isn't it a bit slick outside for that?"

"Not if you know what you're doing."

The blond took off her coat and hat, shaking out her hair. "So what's the plan for today, boss?"

"The girls should be here by 8. That is, if they listened to me. Then we'll do warmups, and I guess we'll start out with some easy stuff for beam and vault and just go from there."

"Sounds like a plan." She headed past me into the locker room to get changed, while I dusted my hands and feet with chalk and hopped onto the balance beam, performing a few simple maneuvers while I waited. Around me, the silhouetted figures painted on the walls seemed to dance as I moved. Each of them, painted about twenty-five feet high, frozen in a position on one of the four apparatuses, graceful, smooth. Something to visualize when performing the moves yourself. I wanted my students to be inspired just by looking at them.

When I was done fooling around on the beam, Clara was exiting the locker room, dressed in a light purple leotard with a pink swirl design on the right side of her chest, her hair tied back in a ponytail. "Yen for your thoughts."

"Huh?"

"You look like you're thinking hard about something."

I smiled. "Nah. It's not that. I guess I'm still on cloud nine from having this place as my own. Is that weird?"

"It's not weird. I think I'm still that way about having my own apartment and I've had it for over a year."

"Heh, I can relate."

She smiled. "Guess I'm just used to your reputation of steel during competition. You always look focused on something."

"Yeah, well," I said with a shrug, climbing off the beam, "everyone knows that. And maybe that's why I already have half-a-dozen girls signed up even though the place has only been open a month, 'cause they know I'm a hard-ass."

"Even if they complain about it every day," she laughed, then turned sober. Something in the back of my mind knew what she was thinking.

"…Oh no. Don't go thinking about THAT again," I warned. "It's over with."

"Well," she sighed, "you have to admit your timing was bad. Checking in a month after the Olympics ended?"

"I don't care."

Clara was referring to my trip to rehab. Once word got out that I was opening my own gym, I'd had a flurry of requests from wanna-be gymnasts and their mothers wanting to sign up with me, thinking that my reputation as a hard-ass would help instill some discipline in them and help them become winners as well. However, somehow, word of my stint in rehab had leaked a few weeks before I opened the gym, and almost instantly I had several girls withdraw their requests. Several paparazzi hounded me at the gym as I was getting the interior prepared, demanding to know if it was true. Even coaches from other teams at the Olympics demanded I have my medals stripped. Fortunately, the IOC was on my side and said that they had tested all the gymnasts at least seven times over the course of the Games, and my tests had all come up clean. And it was true; I had managed to stay clean during the Games, even if I crashed upon returning home to Tokyo.

"You don't care that a lot of people aren't gonna want anything to do with you because of your drug habit?" Clara said, in shock.

"I got clean, didn't I? And I was clean during the trials and during the Games. Maybe my timing was bad, but would you rather I have just killed myself?"

"No! Of course not! You know what I mean! The Genki Dash almost didn't get off the ground because so many people withdrew their support."

"Well, that's their prerogative. I was honest about it when the subject came up. And it's done with. Some of them still stuck with me."

"But every time you're in a competition from now on people are gonna demand you drop out!"

"Probably. But I've got nothing to hide. If they want me to piss in a cup every hour to prove I'm clean, I'll do it. If they want blood, I'll give it to 'em. I told you, I don't care what they think. I've been clean for a year. That's what matters."

"You sure you haven't been tempted though? Even a little?"

I scoffed at the notion, although my mind did go back to the day I had almost slipped, the day after I had had to blow Emi up, and two days after our escape from the ASI guys. It was a miracle I had managed to stop myself from ingesting any of that pink liquid. Somehow I had recognized it wasn't the way to go to deal with what I'd gone through. But could I do that again?

I didn't know. The best I could do was just not be tempted. Whatever that meant.

"I have," I said slowly. "Of course I have. But I didn't give in. It's just one day at a time. I choose not to do anything like that today. Tomorrow I'll also choose not to."

"Well, I hope today goes well."

"It will. I've got no worries about it." I took a deep breath, sticking my chest out. "I have this feeling, y'know? Yup. Today is going to be a good day. Let's just have fun and enjoy the ride, huh?"

Clara snickered. "Oh, and what happened to the hard-ass Yumeko I know?"

"Hey, I didn't say they were gonna have fun. I said we will. I'm still gonna be a hard-ass, don't you start doubting that."

"But you, having fun?"

_Hey, don't start scolding me,_ I thought, just smirking to myself. _A day that I don't have to fight Boomers is a day I can try to have fun. I've got a lot to catch up on._

Shortly after eight o'clock the six girls who had stuck with me after my 'scandal' broke came waltzing in, carrying their duffel bags and bundled up against the cold. I ushered them into the locker room to get changed so we could get started. It may have been only six girls I had at the moment, but as long as I had any students at all, I was happy. And I was sure once people stopped walking around like they had their thumbs up their asses about the situation regarding my past habit, my enrollment would be on the increase. I bit the inside of my cheek and thought to myself. Maybe it was for the best I had a small group to start out with. Sure, I had been a teacher at the Beehive, but Linna had been there to supervise. At least this way, I could work out any kinks as I tried to learn my own way as a teacher. Best to do that with a small group, I suppose.

The girls all came out of the locker room, dressed in their leotards, hair tied back, and ready to go. I had them go through parts one and two of the tai chi form a couple times, Clara leading them on while I walked around and pushed them, making sure they were centered. Hard to be a gymnast if you can't stay balanced when you have the whole floor to stand up on. Today, they all managed to not get pushed over by me, which impressed me.

"Good, good."

All six of them were between the ages of fourteen and seventeen, old enough to see real competition beyond the junior leagues and by the time the next Summer Olympics came around, all would be old enough to compete. I had to be careful not to think that far ahead though, not just in terms of thinking about myself, but thinking about them as well. One of them, especially, had this sort of snooty, rich-bitch attitude about her that I knew I'd probably have to beat out of her. There she was, in the front of the group, in a bright-red leotard, her brown, almost black hair tied back in a bun, dark eyes concentrating intensely on her leg stretches.

"Glad to see you're into it today, Sakura," I complimented, sitting down next to her to join in the stretches. "Had me thinking for a while that you didn't want to be here. Don't like wasting my time, y'know?"

She let out a grunt in response. "You'd still be teaching. Just one less girl."

"Correction, wasting my energy," I said cheekily. "I've said it before. If you don't wanna be here, just go home. But then you'll have to deal with your mother asking why you cut out and then I'd have to deal with her yelling at me for letting you cut."

"She just wants me out of her hair so she can go around with her stupid boyfriend-of-the-week," she mumbled. "Of course I don't wanna do this."

"Not to sound like an after-school special, but it keeps you out of trouble," I said. "Away from the other crap that's out there."

Clara snickered. "You're sure one to talk, Yumeko."

"Quiet, you," I said with a crooked grin. "Anyway, my mom and aunt got me into this when I was ten, after they saw how much I would flip around on the jungle gym or the monkey bars at school. When I started I was like you: cocky, whiny…"

"I'm not whiny," she snapped.

"Bitchy," I added. "I didn't want to make something I usually had fun doing into work. And Linna rode me hard for a long time, until finally I could see what she was getting at. And I realized I was actually having fun. If you're gonna do something, you may as well have fun along the way. Stick with me for another month, and I'll guarantee that you'll just be loving this. Guarantee."

"Right," she mumbled again. "Lovin' it."

"Hey, trust me," I said, standing up, beckoning the whole group to do so. "When you're sitting around on your ass after school with nothing to do, you'll be wishing you were here doing flips on the bars or rolling around on the mat practicing for floor. I can't stand sitting still."

"I love being here, Asagiri-sensei!" a small blond in the back, the youngest of the group, Diana, chimed in.

"Me too!" said two of the others. The remaining two just smiled and stayed quiet.

"Good!" I said, hands on my hips. "I want everyone to be glad to be here! I know I called you all here early today, but I'm making no apologies for that, because you're all on winter break from school now, and I don't want any of you getting lazy just because you don't have to study! I want you all to keep moving, stay active! My coach used to tell me that when your body gets lazy, your mind goes right with it, and if you all have the dream of being champions, then you can't afford to let either slip!"

"Sensei is right!" Clara bellowed. "This place is not for lazy people! It's not called the Genki Dash for nothing! Doesn't the name itself just inspire you to get up and move? Come on! Let's all do something today! Let's MOVE! Let's all get STRONG together!! How about it?!"

"Yeah!!" the girls cheered.

"Hooray," Sakura groaned.

"Everyone take turns on the vault," I called as Clara led them over to the vault and had everyone chalk up their hands. "Just do a few easy moves first, then we'll get down to business and I'll show you how to do some really cool flips."

I sat back and watched them as each one took their turn on the vault, some just falling over it, others, like Sakura, taking it seriously, doing the best flips they could manage as they pushed off of it. I let out a sigh and smiled. No need to push them just yet. I'd just wait until their muscles were nice and warmed up before I'd let my hard-ass self come to life. It wasn't like any of them had a competition tomorrow.

I'd let them goof off. At least for now.

* * *

"Whew! Cold!!" Clara exclaimed as she threw open the front doors. It was six o'clock, and the students in front of her heading out the door complained about their sore legs and backs, which only made me grin. It meant I was pushing them hard. Sakura was the only one not bitching and moaning as she walked past Clara.

"Not gonna join the chorus?" I joked.

"Why?" she said. "If they don't hurt, it means you're not trying hard enough."

"At least you're smart enough to know that."

"Complaining doesn't make it hurt less. Just means you're a whiner."

"Well, let 'em whine if they want to. I'm not gonna let up no matter how much anyone begs me."

She smirked. "Bring it on, Asagiri-sensei. I'll see you Monday."

"See you then."

Sakura left, leaving just me and Clara standing in the entrance. The blond turned to me, bundled up in her coat, while I was still standing there in my leotard. "You sure you don't want me to help you clean up? I don't mind staying longer."

"It's fine," I assured her. "It won't take me too long."

"…Ok," she sighed, relenting. "But get some sleep, ok?"

"Why are you telling me that?" I asked, curious.

"'Cause you don't look like you've slept well lately. You're cheery enough, but…I dunno. I can just tell. I know I had trouble sleeping near the end of high school, stressing out over finals and all that."

"Whether I get enough sleep or not isn't any of your business. I'm here to open the gym on time, even if it's my leg acting as my alarm clock."

"You taking anything for that? You didn't do quite as much yourself today as you did last week."

"Not at the moment. Doesn't hurt that bad. Once the snow melts it should be feeling better." I shoved her out the door. "Stop talking like my aunts. I'm fine. I'll have the gym open tomorrow if you wanna come in for a little workout or somethin'."

She looked at me, stupefied. "I swear, you never take a day off!"

"I like to keep moving. It's not like I'm forcing anyone to join me. Just an open invitation. Come if you want."

"Okay," she said quietly. "See ya."

"See ya."

I locked the door behind her and set about the task of tidying up the gym. I put away the trays of chalk dust in the storage room, then took out a small hose and began spraying down the mats with disinfectant, letting my mind wander as I finished up with that and started wiping down the balance beam. Was it really unusual to have the Genki Dash open seven days a week? I didn't hold lessons all seven days, but like I had said to her, I liked to stay on the move, stay in shape, stay occupied. It was true that I could've just done some other form of exercise, but to me, the faster I was able to move, the more that I was able to escape, be in my own little world, forget about reality for a little while…

Linna had the Beehive open seven days a week, but then again she employed enough instructors that she didn't have to be there all seven days. I probably could trust Clara to run the gym for a day or two a week, but I couldn't help it. It was my gym, and I liked being here.

I yawned and plopped down on the floor, leaning against the wall. I had the lights of the gym off by now, the only sources of light coming in from the surrounding buildings and from the full moon, giving the interior sort of a blue glow. It was soothing.

"Ah, Michiko," I mumbled aloud, "what was that one song you liked off of Mom's second album? That one you couldn't stop singing? Was it _Mangetsu no Ai_? Yeah…I think that was it…"

I thought for a minute, getting the rhythm of the song in my head, nodding to the beat that only I could hear. "The chorus…you always had the chorus stuck in your head… You just had to sing it to get it out, and then it'd get stuck in MY head…"

I started mumble-singing the chorus:

_Mangetsu no hikari no shita de (Searching for your love)  
__Anata no ai o sagashite (Underneath the light of the full moon)  
__Furimuite yo, dakishimete yo (Look back at me, hold me tight)  
__Moo hanasanaide yo (Don't ever let go again)_

_Mangetsu no hikari no shita de (Having my dreams smashed underfoot)  
__Yume ga fuminijirarete (Underneath the light of the full moon)  
__Anata no te ni, kokoro ga ite (In your hands, there is my heart)  
__Tsuzukeru yoo ni iyashite kure (Heal it so that I can go on)_

* * *

_**Twelve years prior  
**__**August 27, 2045**_

In Japanese there are two different words for the people you hang out with. One is _nakama_, which was more like the people you'd hang out with at work or school but didn't really talk with otherwise. They were more like acquaintances or people you were friendly with. The other is _tomodachi_, the people you'd hang out with 24/7 if you could.

At age seven I didn't have any people I could really call _tomodachi_. Sure, I played with other kids that lived in the same apartment building as Mom and me, but I never had sleepovers with them or went over to their apartments for snacks. We would just play games in the dirt outside and that was that. Same with the kids on the playground at school. I'd kick around a soccer ball with them, but otherwise pretty much just hung around by myself. Looking back, I'm not sure if it was because I was more used to hanging around adults, due to Mom's rock-and-roll lifestyle, or if I just wasn't interested in getting to know the other kids beyond having someone to kill time with. At that point in time I didn't really care. It didn't even enter my mind.

Still, something about the new girl in my second-grade class one day intrigued me. I wasn't sure what it was, if it was the fact she had blond streaks in otherwise raven-black hair, or the way she clung to her doll like it was a life raft.

"Children," the teacher announced, her hand on the girl's shoulder, "I have a new playmate for you all. I want you all to meet Michiko Ishiodori. She and her family just moved to Tokyo from Shikoku. She's new to town, so I hope you all will help her feel welcome." She patted her shoulder. "Go on. Introduce yourself."

Michiko gulped and looked down at the floor. "Um…hello. I'm Michiko Ishiodori. It's…nice to meet everyone." Her shoes squeaked as she shuffled them on the tile floor.

"You can go ahead and take the empty desk over by the window," the teacher said, directing her to the desk across the room from me. I watched her as she settled into her seat and reluctantly put her doll aside.

"She's got skunk hair!" the boy behind me gagged, plugging his nose. "Ew!"

"Yeah, it's striped like a skunk!" a second boy, next to the first boy, agreed. "I bet she'll spray you!"

"Everyone," the teacher said, "get out your kanji practice books. We're going to continue on the ones that we did yesterday, and in addition, I'm going to add two more for you to practice." She turned to the board and began writing one of the new kanji on the board. "This is the kanji for _kangaeru_, 'to consider'. It has six strokes." She wrote it again on the board, demonstrating the order in which each stroke was to be written. I watched her write it, then tried to copy it in my book just as she had written it. My first attempt had the strokes too far apart. The second had them squished together. But as I filled in the other squares on the page, writing the kanji over and over, I started to get the hang of it.

The second kanji she was introducing was the one for _takai_, which, depending on the context, could either mean 'high' or 'tall'. Again, I wrote it over and over, the results being the same as with _kangaeru_, being squished or too spaced out at first but gradually becoming something resembling the character on the board. _It looks like a pagoda,_ I thought, silently giggling.

She wrote down several words on the board that used the two new kanji, using their other readings, writing them again in kana above in the case of the words that had kanji we didn't know yet. The words that used the first new kanji included _kangaegoto_ ('concern') and _kooan_ ('idea'). The ones that used the second new kanji included _se ga takai_ ('tall,' in terms of height), _saikoo_ ('best,' 'highest') and _kookoo_ ('high school'). I stifled another giggle at the word _saikoo_; it sounded exactly like the English word _psycho_.

"Note they both have the alternate reading of _koo_," she pointed out, "like many of the other kanji we've been learning lately. There's going to be a quiz next week, and I'll be giving you a list of words and you're going to have to match the proper kanji to the kana word, so have your parents help you study these kanji. Repetition is very important. The more you write the kanji down, the better you'll be able to remember it. Now, let's spend some time writing down the new kanji, and writing down these words that use the new kanji."

I bit the inside of my cheek as I concentrated, looking up at the board over and over again as I wrote down the examples on the board. Learning new kanji was one of the most frustrating things for me. If we all knew how to write in kana, how come we couldn't just write in that instead of these fancy new characters? I could barely internalize the new ones before the teacher would introduce five more for all of us to digest.

"This is psycho!" I yelled out in protest, as the other kids all turned to look at me, stunned. In Japanese, it sounded like I had said "This is the best!" They all started laughing, but the teacher, who apparently had at least some knowledge of English, caught the pun, and walked over to me.

"Where did you learn that?" she chastised.

"It's English," I said. "_Saikoo_, psycho…"

"Yes, I know that. Did your mother teach you that?"

"Nuh-uh. She doesn't know a lot of English. I heard it in a movie!"

"Well, that's not appropriate here. Don't use that again."

I sulked in my seat as she walked back to her desk. _Aw, I thought I was being creative,_ I thought.

The rest of the morning passed by slowly, until finally it was lunchtime. I gobbled down my lunch quickly and ran out to the playground, where fortunately the monkey bars were free. I jumped and grabbed the highest one I could, and swung my body up and around it, swinging around it with my body tightly wrapped, giggling as I went. I loved spinning around the bars, and didn't even mind the inevitable head rush it would give me. By the time I was done with that, my hands were burning from the effort, and I shook them out and flexed my fingers after I jumped down.

"Now where to," I wondered aloud, looking around. The swings were taken up, and there was a group of kids taking up the soccer field, fighting over the soccer ball. I looked over at the jungle gym. Oddly, it was unoccupied. I grinned and ran for it; for once, I had it all to myself.

"Here's Spider Girl!!!" I yelled, jumping onto the jungle gym, climbing up it like it was a spider web. "Spider Man's been caught by the Green Goblin, and Spider Girl is here to save him! Here I come, Mr. Goblin! I'm gonna kick your butt!" I let out a melodramatic battle cry and climbed as fast as I could, chasing down an imaginary enemy. When I got to the top, however, I was quick to notice that I actually wasn't the only one there. Sitting underneath the jungle gym by herself was the new girl, Michiko, making her doll dance in the sand.

I blinked to myself, suddenly self-conscious, but it hadn't looked like she had heard me, and if she had, she didn't look up or say anything. "Hey!" I called to her.

Michiko looked up, blinking. "Huh?"

I waved at her, grinning. "Hi!"

"You're in my class, right?"

"Yeah! I'm Yumeko! You're Michiko, right?"

"Yeah."

I jumped down, making her jump, and sat down next to her in the sand. If I recalled right, the teacher had said Michiko and her family had moved from Shikoku. That was convenient, because I had just been to Shikoku recently myself. Mom had had a charity concert of some sort there several months prior.

"I've been to Shikoku before," I said brightly. "My mama had a concert there a little while ago."

Her eyes widened, suddenly interested. "Your mom? Who's your mom?"

"She's the singer for the Replicants band."

She gasped. "You mean Priss from Priss and the Replicants?!"

My grin turned impish. "Yep!"

"That's COOL!!"

"You can meet her when she comes to get me after school if you want! My aunt Linna is coming too, 'cause Mama doesn't have a car and says it's not safe to ride on her bike with her."

"Do people ask for autographs a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Do they take a lot of pictures?"

"Uh-huh. And Mama doesn't really like that. She tries to get away from the camera guys as fast as she can."

"Do you have a really big house? You must be rich."

"No, we have an apartment. We share a bedroom 'cause there's only one bedroom."

"Really? Why don't you have a big house?"

I shrugged. It wasn't something I had thought about.

"Are you at all her concerts?"

"Uh-huh. It gets really loud too, and the people like to sing along."

"My mom doesn't like Priss' music. She says it's…I dunno. She just doesn't like it. Daddy lets me listen to it though. I like her _Itoshiki Rival_ song. It's really pretty. I know all the words."

"I like _Victory_," I said. "The crowd really likes that one, and _Konya wa Hurricane_. They start throwing their fists in the air and screaming."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh!" she nodded enthusiastically, now a completely different girl from the one I had seen in class that morning. "I like those too! And I like, um, what was it…_Mangetsu no Ai_. Yeah. I get that one stuck in my head a lot! _Mangetsu no hikari no shita de…_" she began singing.

I laughed and did the next line. "_Anata no ai o sagashite…_"

The school bell rang, signaling the end of recess. "Oh shoot, time to go," I mock-pouted. "I don't wanna go back in."

Michiko tucked her doll under one arm and stood up. "We'll get in trouble if we don't. You said she'll be here after school?"

"Yup. She and Linna are gonna be in a green car parked right outside."

"Okay!"

We both ran inside, following the other kids, with me wishing the end of the day would hurry up and get here. I wanted to show Mom and Linna my new friend, and I wanted to see the look on Michiko's face when she finally met her idol.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and I spent most of the time just rocking back and forth in my chair, wishing the clock on the wall would hit three o'clock faster. I tried to make it go faster by drawing the pagoda-like _takai_ kanji over and over on my notebook paper, even during math lessons, and by the time the bell actually rang at the three o'clock hour, it caught me off guard. Time really did go by fast!

"C'mon!" I yelled to Michiko, who barely had time to grab her backpack before I grabbed her hand and we both took off running out the door. We ran down the hallway, almost knocking over several other kids before we burst through the main doors of the school and ran down the pathway to the main road, where loads of other kids were getting on the school bus or waiting for their parents to come pick them up.

I looked down the row of cars parked along the road and pointed at a green one farther down, where I could see Mom and Linna standing and waving. "There!" I exclaimed, pulling her along. "Mama! Aunt Linna!"

"Hey there!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a big hug. "And who's this?"

"This is Michiko! She's new to my class! She moved here from Shikoku! And she likes listening to you!"

"She does, huh?"

Michiko hid behind me, suddenly caught shy. Mom bent down on her knees. "It's ok. I don't bite, I promise."

"You're really…her," Michiko breathed. "You're Priss?"

"Last time I checked, I am."

"You're pretty in person," she said quietly, making Mom laugh.

"I get that a lot. Thank you. How old are you, Michiko?"

"Seven."

"Yume's seven too. How do you like school so far?"

"All the kids call me a skunk because of my hair. They're so mean and they don't stop even when I tell them to."

"Well, kids can be very mean sometimes. Just ignore them and they'll stop. All they want to do is see you cry."

"Why would they want to do that?" she asked.

"Because they're bullies. It makes them feel like big kids."

"That's stupid," I mumbled.

"Yeah, I know," Mom agreed. "But that's how it usually is."

"Where's your mom and dad, Michiko?" Linna asked. "Are they coming to pick you up?"

"Mom is," Michiko replied. "Daddy's at work. Where's your daddy, Yumeko?"

"I don't have one," I said with a smile, almost proud of it. "Mama says she's my mom and my dad."

"That's right," Mom said, ruffling my hair. "You're mine and no one else's."

"Michiko!" a woman called out, walking up to us. "There you are! I told you to wait in front of the entrance!"

"Sorry," she said meekly.

"That's alright," she said with a sigh and a smile. She caught sight of me. "You made a friend already, huh?"

"Yeah!" she burst out. "This is Yumeko, and look who's her mom!" She pointed at Mom, who just straightened up and nodded her head.

"Hi there," she said. "I'm Priss Asagiri."

"You're that singer she listens to," Michiko's mom gasped, as if just recognizing her. "Oh goodness. What a small world. And to think your daughter attends the same school." She cleared her throat, giving a nod of her head. "I apologize. I'm Adrienne Ishiodori."

"Yup!" I piped up. "Mama sings rock and roll! Do you want her autograph?"

She laughed. "Oh, no, no, that's alright. I'm sure Michiko might, though."

"Later," Mom said. "Well, since Yume and Michiko aren't apparently gonna let go of each other anytime soon, how about we all go for some coffee? Never seen Yume get attached to anybody."

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother if you're busy."

"It's fine." She looked down at me and Michiko. "You two want some chocolate milk while us adults have some coffee and get to know each other?"

"YEAH!!" we both exclaimed.

"Can I blow bubbles?" I pleaded.

"Yeah, I wanna blow bubbles too," Michiko concurred, nodding eagerly.

"Oh, all right," Michiko's mom said, giving in, shaking her head. "Oh my. You said Yumeko's never had a friend? Michiko hasn't either. I guess this was meant to be."

"Looks that way," Linna agreed. "I was starting to wonder when Yumeko would get sick of hanging out with grown-ups."

"I'll blow bigger bubbles than Micchan!" I said. Michiko looked at me, blinking with confusion.

"Micchan? No one's called me that before." She grinned. "Ok. If I'm Micchan, then you're Yucchan!"

"Ok! I'm Yucchan!!"

Mom, Linna, and Mrs. Ishiodori all laughed, then talked about which coffee house to meet at, while Michiko and I engaged in a spontaneous game of tag, with me being It and her chasing me around the schoolyard.

"Come get me, Micchan! Bet you can't catch me!"

"Yes I can! Yucchan, I'll get you! I'll get you!"

For the first time in my short life, I knew I had someone that I could call a _tomodachi_ instead of just a _nakama_. That weekend we would both have our first sleepover, our first blanket tents pitched in the living room, our first made-up ghost stories. So this was what having a _tomodachi_ was like. Even if she was my only one through my early school years, it was alright. She was the only one I could ever want.

* * *

_**Present day  
**__**December 22, 2057**_

My head jerked up, waking me up, making me let out a snort as I blinked slowly. Darkness. I yelped and hugged myself, looking around quickly, letting out a sigh of relief when I realized it was just the gym I was in.

_Whew. Felt like the closet for a sec there,_ I thought, standing up, stretching as I mentally chastised myself. How could I have fallen asleep? I looked at the clock and saw it was eight o'clock. I'd been asleep for the past two hours, sitting against the wall in my leotard. I shook my head. Maybe Clara did have a point when she said I looked like I hadn't gotten enough sleep lately. But it wasn't her damn business anyway. I was here every day, on time, teaching the students and – figuratively – beating on them until they begged for mercy. If they got tired before I did, how could I be the one who needed more sleep?

I went into the locker room and changed back into my normal clothes. I was fine, even if lately I hadn't gotten the best night's sleep. But I had a lot on my mind. In that sense, Clara was right. Of course I had a lot on my mind. I had just opened the gym and was still getting the hang of things in terms of managing it, not to mention it was almost the end of the year, an eventful year and yet another one I probably could have done without. The mini paparazzi blitz when my 'scandal' became public knowledge…and of course the thing that happened with the two ASI bastards…

_Heh. Didn't get me there, guys,_ I thought with a sneer. _At least I'm not having to sleep with a nightlight._ Never mind my continuing battle with the shower… Never mind my renewed hatred of men, even if I felt perfectly safe in a bar full of them, last night's events notwithstanding, of course. I knew most were harmless. It was just the jerks I had to look out for. Unfortunately for me, I seemed to attract every one there was in a twenty-kilometer radius.

I locked up the gym for the night and headed home on my bike, for a brief moment thinking about taking up the bartender's offer of free drinks since I'd stopped the would-be robber, but nixed the idea. For some reason, I just didn't want to go in there. Maybe tomorrow. The bar would still be there tomorrow, and so would his offer.

Despite being bundled up against the cold, I found myself shivering. During my morning jog, I would welcome the cold. During the night, however, for some reason it was just different. I hated it. It reminded me of that warehouse…locked up in a room with concrete walls, dim florescent lighting above me, blowing fans around me, a grate directly above me through which ice-cold water would come pouring down…

I grimaced to myself. My hands were stiff and numb now. They hurt, just like back then. My pinky, broken from the initial scuffle before I was kidnapped, would throb. I would tell myself it wasn't really happening. If I could just pretend for a little while longer, just hang in there for just a little while, things would be ok. The cold would go away. I'd be warm and safe…

By the time I got home, I found myself in a full-blown panic attack again. I charged into the house, tossed my helmet and gloves aside, then turned on the kitchen faucet so that hot water was pouring into the sink. I stuck my hands under there, grimacing with the contrast of the blazing heat on my freezing hands, but I kept them there.

_It's hot…it's hot…not cold…,_ I kept repeating in my head. _I'm here, safe, at home… This is not the warehouse. I am not strung up having water dumped on me._

"How old are you?" I could hear Bruce's voice in my head, taunting me. "What year did you graduate? What's your name? How do you know what's in her?"

I jerked my hands away from the water and turned off the faucet. By now they were bright red…just as they would have been if they were cold. I bent my fingers inwards; they still felt stiff somehow, aching from the temperature change.

"I've seen how much you treasure that precious cherry of yours," he growled in my head, "but if you don't start telling me who you work for, I'll have him come in here, and if he's still eager to pop it I will damn well let him have at it."

My stomach lurched into my throat.

"Oh shit," I groaned.

I dived for the trash can, just barely making it in time.

Once my stomach was emptied, I slid down to the floor, curling up in a ball, feeling the hot tears sting my eyes, threatening to break free. The sour taste of the vomit lingered in my mouth, to say nothing of what was going through my head. That was the last thing I wanted to remember, Nezumi on top of me…pulling down my shorts and panties…feeling his fingers…

"No," I cried. "It wasn't rape…he didn't rape me…he didn't…" I shook my head. "No. Emi killed you. She killed you! Go fucking rot in hell, you son of a bitch!!"

Michiko's voice seemed so far away now.

* * *

I had no idea how long I stayed there on the floor, but eventually I willed myself to get up. My stomach growled, even though I wasn't hungry, but I still managed to make myself a few slices of toast, nibbling on it slowly to make the growling stop, and to get rid of the sour taste that still lingered in my mouth. Couldn't think of anything to get rid of the sourness in my head though. Actually, I could, and it was quite tempting, but given my addictive personality, as Mom put it, I didn't keep any in the house. If I wanted anything, I'd have to brave the cold and head back down to the bar that I had passed up for tonight. Hell if I was gonna do that.

I'd sworn that I was not going to be like Mom and try to drink my problems away. They'd still be there anyway. The beer I'd have after work several days a week didn't count; that was just unwinding, wasn't it? I usually just stuck with the one bottle anyway. I knew my limit. Getting hammered wasn't all everyone cracked it up to be.

Nice way to avoid temptation, not having any of that in the house. Hell, after my stint in rehab I was reluctant to even have cough syrup around, afraid I'd go and drink the whole thing to get some sort of high if I was stressed out enough and needed a release. Nope, the only medicine I had in the house was ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and cough drops. Maybe I was pushing the no-temptation thing too far, but I just didn't want to risk it. That was about all I was sure of, in terms of avoiding it.

I guess you could say another way to avoid temptation is not to get stressed out enough to reach that point that you get tempted. Impossible for me. Stress relief wasn't one of my strong points; I didn't get my reputation as a fighter at school by breathing slowly and counting to ten. A true Asagiri, I was quick to anger and very slow to simmer down once that spark caught.

_Damn it, I know he can't hurt me anymore,_ I thought as I shuffled to the living room, kicking off my shoes and stripping off my coat as I went. _I saw Emi kill him right in front of me. She snapped his neck like a twig. He's dead and rotting. I should be taking some sort of consolation in that, right?_

I shook my head. Of all the things I had been subjected to over the past three years, why was what happened in July sticking with me so much? The summit was worse, wasn't it? I'd been shot through the leg, cut open, and blown up, not to mention beaten to within an inch of my life aside from all that. Why did my torture and pseudo-rape haunt me so much? Because it was a personal violation of my being? Well, hell, so was having a gun blast rip through my left leg. But this…it was different, somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was.

Mom, the one who'd taken a beating during the Knight Sabers' first run, was practically beaming with pride when she recalled those days. She gloated about her injuries. And yet, when the subject of her rape came up, she was a different person. More mellow, more…pitiable.

_Maybe it is more personal,_ I thought. _But how can I ask her? I know it's a sore subject with her, and going through what I did…I can see why. I wish I could…just ask her. But I don't know what'll happen if I do._

She had been brave enough to tell me she knew exactly what I was going through the day after the escape from the warehouse. But something in the back of my mind told me not to expect such candor again. That it was a fluke. That she was just putting up a brave front for me, with my experience still being so raw.

I wanted to ask her what to do. I really did. But I wasn't sure what the hell I'd say, how the hell I would start off that sort of conversation. "Hey Mom, how did you deal with being raped?" Well, duh, I knew most of that. But she'd been dealing with it on some sort of level for twenty years. Maybe she knew something I just wasn't seeing yet.

Or maybe it was pride keeping me from asking her. Lord knew I hated asking for help, but for once, I knew I had to. It was just scary.

_Not right now though,_ I quickly thought, shaking my head as I went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and grabbed two ibuprofen tablets, swallowing them dry. _My head hurts. Thinking too much about this crap. Damn it. Tomorrow. Maybe I'll ask her tomorrow._


	3. Dance away

_**Present day  
**__**December 23, 2057**_

My head hurt no less when I woke up the next morning. My temples felt tight, and I winced when I went to rub them. A tension headache. Maybe it would go away once I went and burned off some energy. That was the hope as I got out of bed and whipped up some breakfast, scarfing down my usual meal of bagels and fruit. If I just let myself get lost in my workouts, things would be all right. Unconscious efforts seemed to work best; after all, if you try consciously to forget about something, it seems like in the end you just end up obsessing over what it is you're trying to put out of your mind. No, I didn't want to do that. I wouldn't let myself do that. Not today. Today I didn't have my group of students to fuss over. I could just focus on myself, on the movements…

After my breakfast, I spun around the living room, imagining myself on floor at the Olympics again, dancing to the thumping beat of _Hero of the Day_, the crowd cheering me on. Even if it wasn't part of my routine in that event, and even though I was no ballerina, I found myself doing plies in between my spins, relishing the feeling of each muscle in my quads tightening as I did so, a slight twinge going off in my left leg as I came back up from each plie.

"Another year till the Asian Games," I breathed to myself. "One more year till I get to kick ass in Seoul. Another three till the next Summer Olympics in Copenhagen. Oh yes. I'll be there. Yumeko Asagiri has lots more in her bag of tricks."

The phone rang, and I spun on my heel and went for it, eyes going wide when I saw who was on the caller ID.

_Except for this!!,_ I mentally amended. _What the hell?_

I picked up the receiver, a redhead I hadn't seen in ages appearing on the screen. "I wasn't expecting this at all," I said. "Irodia!"

"Nice to see you too, Yumeko," she said cheerfully. "Nene told me you've opened your own gym. How is that going for you?"

"It's hard," I said, "but I'm getting the hang of it. What about you? I guess you're all in Minnesota for the Christmas gathering by now, huh?"

"We sure are. Mikhaila and Whitney are getting along just splendidly, as you can imagine…"

I let out a small laugh at that.

"…And Tyler and the guys have been talking nonstop about the playoffs and making bets on who's going to get to the Super Bowl."

"Tell me about it. There's this one guy at the bar I go to who watches the games on satellite and he was just bawling when the Seahawks lost. And then another guy came in and tried to rob the place," I added nonchalantly.

"Robbed?! Are you ok?!"

"Oh yeah, I dealt with him. He was trying to use a paintball gun to rob the place. Idiot."

She sighed. "Well, as long as everyone is okay. I'm a mom, I can't help but worry."

"Hey, you know me, I can take care of myself."

"I know, dear. But I worry. And Nene said everyone seems a little worried about you."

"Why?"

"She told me some of what happened over the summer, about you and your friend."

I grimaced. "Dammit, Nene," I hissed to myself. "Bigmouth. Why did she go and do that?"

"She probably thought I would want to know," Irodia replied. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. I'm dealing with it. It's just one more thing. I wish people would stop going on about that. I'm moving on. I got out of town and I've got a gig as a gymnastics teacher. Life is good. It really is pretty good. Any life where I don't have to fight Boomers anymore is good. I can just get back to how life is supposed to be: boring. Right?"

She laughed. "It doesn't have to be boring. And with you being a medalist and daughter of a rock star, I imagine your life can't be that boring."

I shrugged. "I guess."

"It's almost Christmas, you know. You should try spending the day with your mother. This season is about families, about love and giving."

"I'll see what happens. I plan on working that day and I'm not sure what Mom has planned."

"You really should try it, Yumeko. I know you're not a big Christmas person, but give it a shot, will you?"

"I'm not a big people person, period," I mumbled. "I'll try."

"Good, good." She looked at something out of my line of sight, then turned back to me. "Oh, Bethany is demanding my attention. Well, I'm going to go. Stay safe and well, ok, Yumeko?"

"I will. You too, Irodia."

"Bye."

"Bye."

I sighed and hung up the receiver. I was thankful she at least didn't go on some religious spiel about Jesus and the saints and all that. Then again, Xania's foster mom would probably be the more likely one to do that. And at least she didn't start asking details about what happened over the summer.

_Damn. I'm gonna have to go strangle Nene now,_ I thought, before the phone rang once again. _Who is it now?!_

"Hey Yume," Mom said, her face appearing on the screen as I picked up the receiver.

"Hi Mom," I said. "Geez, I just got off the phone with Irodia."

"Really? Anything going on on her end?"

"No, just the usual family gathering in Minnesota. And apparently Aunt Nene told her some of the stuff that happened this summer."

"She figured Irodia would want to know. You did live with her for nine months, you know."

"I know, but it's not like I want the whole world to know. I told Xania and that's pretty much it."

"How are you doing with that, anyway? I kept meaning but ask but I've been down at the studio a lot recently. We're trying to cut a new album."

"A new one? Didn't you just do that cover one last year though?"

"I don't think people count that as a real album," she said with a smirk. "But yeah, we have four songs recorded, and we're hoping to get some of the others done pretty soon. It'll be out by April or May if we're lucky."

"You gonna go on tour?"

"Yeah, we're considering it. After all, the fans got gypped out of the last one."

"Yeah, I know," I groaned. "Gotta make it up to them, huh?"

"Something like that. Easier to do now that we're retired again. Don't gotta worry about leaving everyone else to the wolves." She eyed me. "You didn't answer my question, by the way. How are you doing?" she repeated.

I bit my lip. I wanted to ask for her help so badly. And here she was, asking me in plain Japanese how I was coping. Now was the time. But she seemed like she was in a good mood. I didn't want to ruin that.

I swallowed. Pride took over. "I'm fine," I replied. "I'm keeping busy."

Mom sighed. "You say that every time, Yume. I'm asking because you look tired."

"Clara's been saying that too. I'm telling her to mind her own business. This job's a little more demanding than my gig at the Beehive. I'm still getting the hang of it."

"You sure you don't need Linna to come down there for a day and help you out?"

"Nope. I'm ok. If I need her help I'll ask for it."

Mom looked doubtful, but left it at that. "I'm gonna keep asking, you know. You're an hour away, so it's not like I can just come by on a whim if you want something. But let me know, ok? You're my kid, no matter how old you get. Remember that."

"I know, Mom."

"I'm gonna get going. I'm running late as it is. You have work today?"

"Unofficially, yes. Just gonna hang around down there and do my workouts, and I told the others they're free to come by if they want, but I don't think they will."

She nodded to herself. "Okay. I'll call you later on, ok?"

"Ok."

"See ya."

"Bye."

I hung up the receiver, expecting someone else to start calling too. But the phone stayed silent. I sighed; I'd blown my chance. Sure, there might be others, but oh why, why did pride have to take over? I wanted to say I was strong. I was strong, wasn't I? Asking for help would be like admitting this was too much for me. I wanted to handle it on my own. It was true I'd asked for help with other things, big things, but this…

I could easily call her back and say "Hell no I'm not doing ok." But my hands were like lead. I didn't think I could have dialed her number even if I wanted to.

I grimaced and started banging my head on the desk. "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it…"

* * *

I skipped my morning jog. If it was going to be just me at the gym anyway, it didn't really matter.

It was slightly warmer today than yesterday, but not enough to switch from my coat to a lighter jacket, so I stayed bundled up during my drive into town. I had a vague plan, at best, of what I was going to do today. Since I'd most likely be by myself I could crank up the music, do tai chi for a while, goof around on the uneven bars if I wanted to, even sing out loud if I was in a goofy enough mood. At least I probably wouldn't get caught. Anything seemed better than having my thoughts linger on things out of my control. This, I could control. This day was entirely within my hands. Today, I would do what I wanted. It seemed to be my mantra: if I didn't have to fight, I would try to have fun.

Easier said than done, of course. Like most everything else in life, it seemed.

But I wanted to believe it was worth the effort.

Once getting to the gym, I hurried and changed into my leotard, jogging out into the main area of the gym and spinning around like I had done at home earlier. I paused long enough to turn on the stereo, cranking the music up just loud enough to make the floor shake, then I resumed my spinning, eventually easing into one of my floor exercise routines, sprinting from one end of the mat to the other, dropping down into side splits, coming up again to do back-handsprings back to the other end. I spun on my heel, facing the open area of the mat again, resuming my jumping.

_There are cracks on the road we lay  
__But where the temple fell, the secrets have gone mad_

I did several front-handsprings, then dropped into a roll, spun around mid-roll, and jumped up again, switching to back-handsprings until I reached the far corner of the mat.

_This is nothing new, but when we kill it all  
__The hate was all we had!  
__Who needs another mess, we could start over  
__Just look me in the eyes and say I'm wrong!  
__Now there's only emptiness, venomous, insipid  
__I think we're done, I'm not the only one!_

"And they say the oldies suck," I remarked to myself, breathing hard as I threw myself into a backwards roll, singing along in my head. "_And the rain will kill us all, we throw ourselves against the wall. But no one else can see the preservation of the martyr in me…_"

I threw myself back to my feet, suddenly freezing in place when I saw someone standing there at the door, just inside the gym. A small blond that it took me a moment to recognize.

"Oh!" I ran over to the stereo and turned the volume down. "Diana!"

"I hope I didn't interrupt, Asagiri-sensei," she said in a small voice.

"No, not at all," I said, though I could feel my cheeks burning. "I gave you and the other girls the day off to rest. What're you doing here?"

"I heard you tell Shirayuki-sensei she could come," she explained, referring to Clara. "She isn't here?"

"I didn't expect her to come anyway," I shrugged. I walked over to her. "Didn't they assign a lot of assignments for you over winter break?"

"Yes, but I guess I'm like you," she said with a smile. "I like to keep moving. And one day to do my workouts won't keep me from doing my assignments. Mom says it's good for me to get out of the house instead of having my nose stuck in a book all the time."

"You have entrance exams pretty soon though, don't you?"

"Yeah. But it won't be that bad."

"Not that bad, huh? I'm still not sure how the hell I got into Kihi with studying as little as I did. I think I cut half my classes leading up to my entrance exams."

"Kihi?"

"Kiiroi Hi is the full name," I corrected. "It has a reputation for fights but it's still a B-rank school. Like I said, no clue how I still got in. Guess I got lucky. Or maybe those study sessions with Michiko actually stuck with me." I looked at her. "What school are you gonna try to get into?"

"Sierra."

I grimaced. "C'mon, Sierra?! That's Kihi's rival! I know it's an A-rank school, but c'mon!" I said teasingly, slapping her on the shoulder. "You don't wanna go to school with a bunch of snobs, do ya?"

"It's close and my parents both went there."

I smiled and said, "Well, go wherever you want to. If you can manage to get into Sierra, then that's great. I'd still rather you try for Kihi though."

"You're biased," she said with a giggle.

"I know, I know. School pride thing, I guess. Go on, get changed. I'll wait for you out here."

I watched Diana as she ran into the locker room with her duffel bag to get changed. She was fourteen, due to turn fifteen next month, but she acted more like she was ten. Still, there was a certain charm about her that had everyone treating her like a little sister, patting her on the head and giving her advice. Like Sakura, she definitely had potential; I just had to work on the rough edges that she still displayed, especially on balance beam. It was my weak point as well, but I was sure there were some things I could teach her there. I wouldn't be a good teacher if I didn't know my own flaws on each apparatus, after all.

_She's innocent, like Emi was,_ I found myself thinking, quickly brought back to reality when Diana reappeared, clad in her usual light blue leotard, hair tied up in a bun.

"I'm ready, Asagiri-sensei!" she said cheerfully.

"Okay, Diana," I said. "Let's go ahead and warm up, then you can show me what you can do on floor."

"Okay." She pointed at the stereo. "Can we have the music on? You never have music on when teaching us and yet you were going along with it just now."

"I make exceptions for floor though," I pointed out, then smiled. "Oh hell, why not. I suppose we can blast it just for today. But it's for rhythm reference only, ok?"

* * *

As much as I could tell Diana was tempted to ask about every song that came on the radio – none of the rock songs playing were exactly current, but were ones I was familiar with nonetheless – she resisted the urge, and I was thankful she showed the restraint. If I'd gone on about every song we would've spent the day talking instead of working on the apparatuses. First we worked on her weakness, the balance beam. I explained to her about my utter demise at Worlds three years prior, and showed her a trick that Linna had taught me to stay on the beam.

I grabbed a roll of masking tape and ran a long piece of it along the mat, until it was as long as a balance beam. I had her do her usual moves along that piece of tape, correcting her whenever she stepped off of it, which was often.

"Ok, get back on the beam," I said. "You can feel the tape under your feet, can't you? I told you, pretend it's an actual beam."

"It's hard when I know it's not a real beam," she replied, looking about as frustrated as I felt.

"That's why I said get on the beam, because it IS real." I heaved a sigh and looked at her chest. "Have you grown?"

"Huh?" She patted her chest. "Maybe a little."

"Puberty," I said, sighing again. "You're gonna have to adjust to a whole new center of gravity once your chest comes in. Maybe that's why you've having trouble."

"How come you have a big chest?" she asked, nodding at my bosom. "I thought gymnasts weren't supposed to get breasts because they work out so much."

"Faulty genes," I wisecracked. "Mom warned me I'd be doomed to big tits. If I didn't work out like I do they'd be way bigger than this."

"But you look like you're a B or C-cup!"

"I know. So imagine how big they'd be if I wasn't a gymnast."

She gulped. "How long did it take you to adjust?"

"They came in quick, so it took me a while to find my new center. But yours are slow-growing, so you have no excuses," I said with a smirk, wagging a finger at her. "So come on. Do the same stuff you just did on the tape. We're gonna keep doing this until you look sturdy on it. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now chalk up your hands again and get up there. I wanna see some real moves."

I sighed and smiled as I watched Diana go about her moves on the beam, going slow at first as if it were her first time on there, then sped up once she was more comfortable. I said nothing, just watching her. Girls her age would have normally gotten their breasts in by now. I'd seen girls as young as nine or ten start getting them in. I was on the lucky side, or so I thought; mine didn't start coming in until I was thirteen, well after most of the other girls I knew. As I told Diana, because mine came in later than the others, and practically overnight at that, it took me weeks for Linna to help me find a new center. I'd cursed my budding breasts, begged her to cut them off so I wouldn't have to go through the work to re-center myself, but she said it was the curse of being born female.

"And it's the curse of not being full-blooded Japanese," she had teased. "Unless you'd rather have the body of a boy."

_Body of a boy,_ I balked in my head. _Ha. At the time I would've rather had that than an incessantly aching chest. She should be thankful I didn't have my first period in the middle of one of my workouts!_

"Diana!" I called out, leading her to stop mid-roll on the beam.

"Yeah?" she asked curiously.

"Have you had your first period yet?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, if your tits are starting to grow, you might wanna start wearing something. Tends to start a little sudden, and I'd hate for you to ruin your leotard. So try wearing a tampon when you come in from now on."

"Ok…" She looked at me shyly. "But I don't know how to put one in."

"The box should have instructions, and if not, you can look it up. Don't ask ME about that stuff," I said, chuckling. "I'm a teacher, but that's not on my repertoire of things to teach!"

"Ok. Should I start again?"

"Yeah, go ahead. You're doing good. Keep doing what you're doing."

Diana started again, and once more I just stood back and watched, my mind no longer on her movements, but on the issue of the time of the month. I'd missed my period this month…but it wasn't something that I was worried about. I was a virgin, so of course I couldn't be pregnant, but I'd certainly been under some stress. Between the excitement of opening the gym and offering the place to my students all days of the week – not to mention the 'scandal' beforehand – I'd completely forgotten about it. I hadn't even realized I'd missed one until just now. _Guess I'm just too excited about this,_ I thought. _But that's not a bad thing. It takes a lot of work to get a place like this off the ground, doesn't it? And I'm doing alright, aren't I?_

A voice in my head spoke. _Heh. Calling yourself a virgin even though you got raped?_

_Shut up! That wasn't real rape! He didn't use THAT, and last time I checked you can't get pregnant from fingers!_

_The thought of being just like your mother terrifies you, doesn't it?_

_What happened to her wasn't about sex. It was about power, just like with what the rat did._

_Oh, fess up. You know the main reason he was riled up was because he found out you're a virgin. He wouldn't have been so eager otherwise._

_Whatever. Even if I'd slept with Craig in the other world he would've done that anyway. My virginity doesn't have any real bearing on it. He did it because I'm a girl. It's the curse I have. The almighty T&A curse._

"Asagiri-sensei?"

I blinked and returned to the real world, Diana standing in front of me, looking at me with worried bright-blue eyes. "Huh?"

"Asagiri-sensei. You look really pale. Are you ok?"

"I'm…" I shook my head. "I'm ok. I was just daydreaming."

"Are you sure? I wasn't that bad just now, was I?"

Her question made me laugh. "No, no. You were great. I envy you. You're definitely better on the beam than I was when I started out."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. We just need to get you to practice more on it so you'll be nice and rounded-out on all the apparatuses. But right now, how about we take a break? We've been going at it all morning. And after that, we'll do some more stretches and tackle the other three, ok?"

"Ok!!"

"Good!"

* * *

After a short lunch break, I got Diana going on the other three apparatuses. Her strength seemed to be floor, and while she enjoyed that a lot, I had to make sure not to spend too much time on it. She was good, and while I knew that it was important to focus on the strengths, I wanted to improve her weaknesses too. I wouldn't be able to help her as much as I was now if it was a regular class, but being one-on-one with her, she really seemed to be improving her game.

At six o'clock she left to catch her bus home, and once again, I was alone in the gym. After I disinfected the mats and cleaned off the bars and the beams, I went into the locker room and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the lockers. It was quiet, and humidity still hung in the air from Diana's post-workout shower. I took in a breath of the warm air and closed my eyes.

I'd thought about it, but I still wasn't sure whether I really believed it to be true, or whether I was just trying to rationalize what had happened. Nezumi had done what he did because I was a girl, not just because I was a virgin. He wouldn't have done it if I was a boy. He still would've shocked me, and I still would've been locked in the closet and strung up and dowsed with water. But that wouldn't have happened.

Craig and I had had several opportunities in the other world to go all the way. We never made that final leap though, because neither of us were ready. But Nezumi, he seemed hot to trot no matter what. Even if I wasn't a virgin he would've done that thing with his fingers anyway. I was a girl, and that was enough.

_You have to admit,_ the voice in my head said again, _he got very excited when he saw you bleed._

_Me bleeding doesn't mean jack shit!_

Bleeding didn't mean anything. I was sure of it. What girl, virgin or not, is going to be wet and ready when she's about to get raped? Bleeding was only evidence that I was neither of those things, nor was I willing. I suppose to him, bleeding meant my hymen was intact and therefore I was a virgin. It was true I was, but it wasn't definitive proof of anything. I knew it could be torn during exercise, and that certainly didn't mean the person wasn't a virgin anymore. It was almost as ridiculous as idiots claiming you could lose it to a tampon or a speculum.

I would admit, though, that I'd certainly had a problem wearing tampons ever since then.

"Damn it," I mumbled, brushing my bangs out of my eyes. "Thinking about this too much… That's what he wanted…"

I snorted. The whole event didn't seem real. It seemed like a bad dream, but I'd never heard of bad dreams giving a person bad dreams. Seemed like something of a paradox to me. So that meant it did happen, as much as I didn't want to believe it did. Mom had freaked out over this aspect of my torture more than anything else, and while I wanted to just believe it was another part of it, that one part wasn't worse than another, it did stand out. Along with the ongoing water issues.

_I'm trying to move on,_ I thought, trying to convince myself. _It's been five months. By this point after the summit I was walking again and back in my suit, although that was for personal reasons. But this…damn it! It's like trying to break down a brick wall without a hardsuit! It's like walking through molasses!_

Again, I sighed, clasping my hands together. This was hard, but I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen. I couldn't pretend Emi didn't exist. I couldn't pretend I'd gone through all that just to protect her, although I had to turn around the very next day and blow her up, to protect everyone else.

"I survived all that. I'm here," I said aloud. "I survived. I'm here. I'm going to be ok. I will be ok…"

I stood up, spinning around to slam my fist into a locker. It rattled, echoing throughout the room. When I pulled my fist away, there was a slight dent where I had impacted it. I smiled.

"One punch at a time," I said, determined, hitting the locker again. "One step at a time. One day, month, year at a time… I'm still here. I'm still alive. I'm still fighting!"

Another hard fight. That's all this was. And I had to tell myself it wasn't worth bowing out. Not this time. Not ever.

* * *

_**Seven years prior  
**__**November 10, 2050**_

My first gymnastics competition. Oh, what a thrill, what an adrenaline rush to see a gym full of people cheering on the competitors. I had been in training with Aunt Linna for the past two years, and while many people, including Mom, had thought I was ready for real competition a long time ago, Linna had wanted to make absolutely sure that I was on the proper level to do so. Oh, and not to mention that Mom had been on tour for the past year and I had gone with her.

Linna had balked at that, and despite my insistence that I had kept up on my training while traveling with her, upon our return home in August she immediately set me to work. And so, after three months of hard pseudo-catch-up training that I felt certain I would drop dead at the end of, here I was, about to show some judges and several hundred people in the stands – or so; I was guessing – what I was made of.

"They're not there," Linna whispered in my ear as I fidgeted, awaiting my turn. "Pretend it's just another training session."

"I know all that," I balked. "I'm not nervous. I'm excited. I can't wait to get out there."

"You're shaking. Stop that."

"I told you, I'm just excited!"

On the loudspeaker came the announcer's voice. "Yumeko Asagiri on vault."

"That's you. Good luck," she said, patting me on the back.

"No problem," I said confidently, sticking out my chest as I walked up to the vault and chalked up my hands. Cracking my knuckles, I backed up until I was the proper distance from the vault, then I took off like a shot, charging towards it like a bull towards a matador.

_One, two, THREE!!_ Right on cue, I jumped, snapping my body into the air as I pushed off of the vault, doing several flips and twists in the air before landing on the mat, bouncing forward slightly on the landing.

The crowd cheered, but I had to hide a grimace of disappointment as I walked back to the sidelines. I'd bounced more than I liked, and I was sure the judges had noticed.

"You did good," Linna said, patting my shoulder.

"I bounced," I said with a frown.

"That's ok. Don't worry about it. I'm sure you got a good score anyway."

A moment later my score appeared on the scoreboard. The average from the scores from the judges came out to a 9.1. I groaned again and shook my head. That was worse than I had expected, and I voiced as much to Linna, who, despite my grumbling, still had a smile on her face.

"Don't worry about it. There's always room to improve. And that's a lot better than some of the other girls did. You still have three more apparatuses to perform on, so concentrate on those."

I nodded. She did have a point, but I made a note in my head to practice more on vault the next time I was at the Beehive.

The other three went better than I expected, and to my great surprise, when the competition was over, I found myself with a silver medal, awarded for the all-around competition. Linna was beaming with pride, as was Mom, who made some sort of comment that she was grateful I was out doing my own thing instead of trying to follow in her footsteps.

"Singing's not my thing," I said. "I like gymnastics more."

"Well, that's good," Mom assured me. "If you tried the singing racket I know everyone would just try to compare you to me, and I wouldn't want that. You're your own person, not a mini-Priss."

"You wouldn't know it though," Linna teased. "Yumeko has quite the personality on her."

"I'm going for the Olympics," I declared.

Linna laughed. "You'll be too young to head to Miami though! You have to be sixteen, remember?"

"Why?" I protested. "Nadia Comaneci was fourteen when she won at Montreal!!"

"They changed the requirement after the 1996 Summer Olympics to better protect the younger gymnasts' bodies, since they're still developing." She smiled. "You'll be old enough for the Nairobi Olympics though. You'll be eighteen then, plenty old enough."

"But that's six years away! That's not fair!"

"Well, if you want to go, that just means you have a lot of time to prepare. But until then, you need to up your game, and make sure you can win some of these smaller competitions before you even begin to think about anything as serious as Worlds or the Olympics."

I puffed up my cheeks in annoyance. If only Mom had given birth to me two years earlier, then I would've been old enough for the Miami Olympics! If only the age requirement hadn't been changed, then me being fourteen two years from now would've been just fine! But nooo…

I loudly voiced my complaints to Michiko at school the following Monday, who could only side with Linna. "She has a point, Yucchan," she said, looking somewhat embarrassed, knowing I wasn't pleased that she wasn't agreeing with me. "I don't think they can lower the age requirement just like that. Don't they have to vote on that or something?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. It's a stupid rule," I fumed. "If Nadia could compete at fourteen, I should be able to too."

"Things were different back then."

"Wish I lived in the twentieth century. Then it wouldn't be a problem! I could go and win a whole armful of medals and then beat the current people in the head with them!"

Michiko laughed, while the teacher walked into the room and set down a stack of packets on her desk. "Ok, everybody," she called out. "Everybody who didn't hand in permission slips can go ahead and sit in the next room and work on homework."

Several kids got up and left, and I let out a sigh as I remembered what the teacher was referring to. _Dang, forgot about this,_ I thought.

She walked around the room and handed each kid a packet. "For the next few days we're going to be talking about sex." Upon saying that word, several of the boys laughed. "Many people may think you're still too young to learn about it, but it's better you learn about it now than get miseducated about it from your peers later on. Now…" She cleared her throat. "Everyone turn to the first page in the packet. First things first – we're going to be learning about the anatomy of your lower parts. We'll start off with the female parts, then move on to the male parts."

_This is gross,_ I thought, mumbling and grumbling to myself as the teacher went on to explain the functions of the vagina, uterus, and ovaries, and how some of these parts would come into play as we reached puberty. Puberty? As far as I knew I hadn't gotten anywhere close to that. My chest was still flat, I wasn't having any 'strange' feelings inside me when I looked at boys, and I hadn't started my period yet, although several of the other girls in the class had, including Michiko. Not to mention I was still only four-foot-eleven. Where was this growth spurt I had heard would happen? Certainly hadn't happened to me yet. I'd had a few pimples, but that was as far as my personal puberty had extended so far.

"Don't worry about it," Mom said, laughing loudly when I expressed my concerns to her after school that day. "You're twelve. You'll be growing like a weed soon enough, both up AND out."

"Up and out? But I don't want boobs. Don't they hurt your back?"

"Not really."

"And don't bras itch?"

"Not if you get some really good ones."

I slapped my hand against my chest, my other one perched on my hip. "A flat chest is a status symbol!! Beloved and rare!!" I declared.

"I think you've been watching too much TV," she quipped. "Having washboard abs is one thing. Having a washboard chest is quite another. Face it, Yume. You're doomed. You're an Asagiri, and all Asagiris end up with big tits. Just wait a couple years and you'll have a big chest like me."

"But I don't want one! I wanna be flat forever!"

She laughed again. "Show me your chest."

"Huh?!"

"You heard me. Show me."

I grimaced and unhooked the straps on my overalls, sending them dropping to the floor as I lifted up my shirt, exposing my nonexistent breasts to Mom. She leaned forward, then stood back, nodding. "Nothin' yet," she said. "But you'll get there before you know it. And once they come in, you're gonna look pretty damn silly in those overalls."

"Am not!" I protested.

"You may dress like a boy but once those come in, you're screwed!"

"They won't come in! I won't let them!"

"LET them? It's not a matter of letting them do anything! They break down the door and set up shop right there in your chest before you even know what's happening."

"I'll bind my chest then!"

Mom let out another hearty laugh. "Oh, oh! Yeah, ok! Good luck with that!"

"I don't want boys staring at me like they do with you."

"Men like T&A. It's in their blood," she said with a smirk.

I grumbled and folded my arms over my chest, as if that was an effective warning for any wannabe breasts to stay away. I didn't want them! I didn't want to wear bras or have my chest hurt or get attention from boys! As far as I was concerned, boys really did have cooties. And wouldn't it be hard to do my gymnastics routines with two things flopping in front of me? Linna managed somehow, but I would've rather just not dealt with it. I prayed for my chest to stay flat forever.

The next couple days in homeroom class were much the same thing, just more learning about sex parts and about STDs and how the whole sex thing worked beyond just being the insertion of Tab A into Slot B. I grimaced to myself in thought. Of course I'd learned what sex was before this whole sex-ed thing, but I couldn't imagine for the life of me how a guy sticking his thing inside a girl would feel good. I learned that a girl's vagina stretched out to accommodate him, but didn't that hurt too? Wouldn't the guy's thing just be too big, period? It hurt to even think about it. And adults _liked_ doing it? Ew.

On the day we learned about STDs, the teacher handed everyone a square packet. "Tear them open," she said. "These are condoms. I'm going to show you how to put them on."

I jumped in my seat and tossed mine away from me as if it had the plague. "No way in hell am I putting that on a guy's thing!!!" I shouted.

"Miss Asagiri, not literally," the teacher said with a smile, though the other kids were howling in laughter. "We're going to unroll them using our fingers as a guide. No one's exposing themselves in class today."

"Oh, but it's for education's sake!" one boy said, pretending to move for his zipper.

"No," she said firmly.

She showed everybody how to tear them open properly to make sure the condom itself wasn't torn in the process, then held up two fingers, and with her free hand, she demonstrated how to roll it down. Everyone copied what she did, although the boy in front of me, after he was done, proceeded to use his condom as a balloon, blowing it up to almost the size of his head before it popped.

"Ah, there's one every year," I heard the teacher groan.

I looked at the unrolled condom on my fingers and grimaced. _This is still gross,_ I thought. _This can't feel good either. And after the guy is done he's supposed to take it off with all the stuff inside it? Ewww!_ It made me wonder how the hell Mom had even conceived me to begin with. Sex sure didn't seem like it was fun at all.

I told Mom about the condoms in class and how we'd learned how to put them on. "Yeah, it's gross," she concurred. "But at least she didn't give you lubricated ones for her demonstration."

"Lubricated ones? What are those?"

"They have a kind of gel on them to make sure he can, er, get inside easier."

"Ewww!!!" I shook my hands, even though the one I had used had not been lubricated. Just the thought of it made my stomach turn. "Mom, that's nasty!!! Sex just sounds like it's painful and a hassle and…and just nasty! I think I'll just stay a virgin for life, thank you very much! None for me! No thanks! No way do I wanna go through all that!"

"Well, it's your decision," Mom said, though her eyes had taken on a faraway look that I wasn't familiar with. "You might change your mind when you fall in love for the first time."

"Fall in love?! Never! How did you get pregnant with me anyway? Did it hurt? I can't imagine it was fun, 'cause the whole thing doesn't sound fun at all. It just sounds like a way to pop out babies."

Mom sighed, looking pained. "I don't want to talk about it, Yume."

"Why not? Did you like him? If you did, how come you didn't marry him?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was more firm.

"Was he a jerk? Did he dump you?"

"Yume! Enough!!"

I winced and stood back. Mom really didn't want to discuss it.

"Ok," I said softly, relenting.

It confused me. The teacher had said sex was a private thing, something not readily talked about in public, but something about Mom's reaction when I asked her about it worried me. Had she had her heart broken? Had my dad died? Did I have a twin who died? What on earth was it? I thought she would've happily talked to me about it – she was open about pretty much everything else – but au contraire, she clammed right up.

"You'll have to ask her about it," Aunt Nene said when I brought it up to her. "I'm not at liberty to say." I noted that she looked sad when she explained, but I didn't press the issue.

"This is definitely something she has to tell you herself, Yumeko," Aunt Linna said when I called her, echoing Nene's sentiment. "I don't know the details. She's never told me."

Sylia said more or less the same thing when I called her. "Sex is a private issue, not something parents really like to discuss with their children," she said. "If she doesn't want to talk about it, I wouldn't press the issue. It's a sensitive subject with her."

_Sex is a sensitive subject?,_ I thought, now utterly confused. _What's so embarrassing about it? If she had me, then she's done it. I just wanna know how it was when she made me. I bet Micchan is asking the same thing from her mom and dad._ I knew it was a personal thing, but the vibe I continued to get from Mom just seemed wrong. She'd even had a strange look on her face when I brought up the sex-ed thing to her and gave her the permission slip to sign, but I hadn't thought anything of it at the time.

I gasped. I knew what it was. It could only be one thing.

At the end of the week I raced home on my bicycle, heart pounding. There was only one thing that I had overlooked, one other possibility left. It was little wonder she looked so pained whenever I asked her about it. How could I have been so stupid?

"Mom!" I called when I barged through the door.

"Hi Yume," she said cheerfully, slouching on the couch, looking over some sheet music. "How was school?"

"Fine. Mom, I know what it is. I know why you don't wanna tell me."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"It's 'cause…" I took a breath. "It's 'cause I'm adopted, right?"

She looked at me, staring for a moment, before she relaxed and burst out laughing. "Adopted?!" she howled, slapping her knee. "Oh, oh, Yume, you're priceless. Oh. No. No, no, you're not adopted. You are very much my daughter. My daughter in every sense of the word. For God sakes, you've seen pictures of me pregnant. What makes you think you were adopted?"

"Well, maybe that was when you were pregnant with another baby, then you lost that one and adopted me in its place."

"Again, you really watch WAY too much TV," she said, getting her breath back. "Yume, I carried you for eight months. I had you a month early because I was stressed out. But you came out just perfect."

"I don't wanna know about the pregnancy! I just wanna know if when you made me, it was romantic and with someone you loved! I just wanna know! The boys at school are starting to call me a bastard because that's the word used for a kid born out of wedlock."

"Is that a term you learned in your sex-ed class?"

"No. One of them looked it up at home and then told everybody else. I thought he was full of it, but when I looked it up I saw it was true. I am a bastard."

She sighed and pulled me into a hug. "Yume. You're not a bastard. Your father is. He's the biggest bastard of them all."

I looked up, my face having been buried in her chest. "Huh? What do you mean he was a bastard? Did he dump you?"

"No. We were never an item."

"So what happened?"

Mom let go of me and had me sit next to her on the couch. She tucked in her lower lip as she mulled over how to explain the story to me. Finally, she arched her head back and sucked in a breath, as if to steel herself against something.

"He's a bastard, Yume, in the sense that he'll take what he wants, no matter what. He wanted me to have sex with him, and I said no. But…he forced me into it anyway."

"Forced you? How did he…?"

"He pinned me down…and he raped me."

I could've sworn my heart stopped at that moment. Rape? I knew what it was, of course, but I never thought someone could get pregnant from it. I thought it could only happen if the woman wanted it to happen. To think that this, this horrible event, that this was how she had gotten pregnant with me…

No.

"Raped you? He raped you? And then you got pregnant because of it?"

She nodded, closing her eyes to stop the tears from coming.

"No!! He didn't do that! I don't believe it!!" I jumped off the couch and backed away. "You're strong!! There's no way some guy could just do that to you!! You'd have kicked his ass from one end of Tokyo to the other! Mom, you're kidding me!!"

"Yume, I wish I was," she said quietly, her voice beginning to crack. "I wish I could make up some story about how I met the man of my dreams and that we made love on a beach somewhere, but I can't. I'm sorry."

"No!!" I ran for the door. "You're lying!!"

Mom grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away from the doorknob. I saw tears running down her cheeks, just like my tears were on mine. "This is how it happened. I can't change that. But listen to me, Yume. Please listen. You're my daughter, no matter what. Okay? It's true that that bastard is your father, but I am still your mother. I'm the one who's been here for you, not him. Just because your father is a bastard doesn't mean you won't turn out to be a wonderful person."

"But…but why?" I cried. "If you knew it was him, why didn't you get an abortion?"

"Because…as much as you have a part of him in you…you have a part of me too. You're my kid. And whatever happened, I knew it wasn't your fault. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it. You're my daughter. You'll always be my daughter. And I have loved you ever since I found out you were growing inside me. I always will. Don't doubt that for a moment, ok?" She brushed the tears from my face. "I knew I was going to have to tell you. And I really, really do wish I had a better story to tell you. But this is all I have."

"Nobody knows?"

"Your aunts know. But no one else. It's something only our little group knows, and you can't go tell anybody, ok?"

"So that's why they wouldn't tell me. Because it really was something horrible."

She nodded. "It doesn't matter how you came about, Yume. What matters is that you're here. You're my little girl, the next generation of the Asagiri line. And whatever you do, I'll be there to support you."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

"Mom," I sobbed, hugging her tight as my tears started anew. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shhh. Don't apologize. It's ok."

She stood there and held me for what seemed like the longest time. Until that moment, I had grown up thinking of her as strong, invincible. While that image was shattered upon the revelation of the truth of my conception, what didn't change was that she was still a strong person. She was strong for being able to tell me the truth, and years later, after my stabbing, she was even stronger for being able to reveal the details of that night. As much as the subject pained her, she was resilient. She didn't let the experience define who she was.

No matter what had happened in the past, in the here and now, she was still my mom, my personal superhero.

* * *

_**Present day  
**__**December 23, 2057**_

I winced as the cold air hit my face upon exiting the gym. My hair felt greasy from today's workout, and although I hadn't had a shower or bath in two days, I decided against taking one right after my workout – damn it, why didn't I have a furo installed at the gym? I'd had one installed at home, after all – and figured I could just hop in the tub when I got home. What was the sense in heading out into cold weather right after taking a hot bath or shower anyway?

_Tomorrow's Monday,_ I thought, _so everyone'll be here. Guess I gotta figure out what to go over for tomorrow's exercises. What did we go over yesterday? Vault and…beam? I think?_ I shook my head. I couldn't think clearly all of a sudden. Maybe it would be a good idea to go home, take a bath, and head straight to bed. I felt like I was coming down with something.

_Ok, vault and beam yesterday, so I should go over the uneven bars and floor tomorrow. Or maybe I should go over everything since they had the day off today._

I shook my head and walked to my motorcycle, pulling on my gloves. I felt scatterbrained. Maybe I really was coming down with something. Between trying to figure out what to teach tomorrow, and my absentmindedness while teaching Diana today, I could barely even remember that today was Sunday the 23rd.

I was a teacher. I wasn't supposed to focus on anything but the students in front of me and making sure that they were performing their routines to the best of their ability. So why were those inappropriate thoughts coming up at the worst times? I'd been doing just fine with those, I thought, but in the last few days, the flashbacks had been relentless.

_Maybe it's 'cause I haven't been to the bar in two days,_ I thought dryly. _Oh hell, that's a bad thought. What am I doing?_

I headed straight home, and thankfully, unlike last night, I didn't have a panic attack on the way. It was still cold, but not quite as bad as before, so I held myself together just fine. Again I passed up the offer of free drinks from the bar, but again I figured the offer would still be there the next time I'd pop in. I only went in there two or three times a week anyway, so me not showing up for two days straight wouldn't be out of the ordinary.

But still…

Once inside the house, I sat down at the desk and dialed a number. Not Mom's, as I probably should have, but it was the next best thing I had at my disposal.

"Yumeko Asagiri!" the blond woman on the screen exclaimed. "This is a pleasant surprise! How have you been doing, dear?"

"This isn't a social call," I sighed. "I'm assuming Sylia's kept you updated on what I've been doing?"

"She has," she concurred. "She told me about you building a house and gym out in Minobu."

"And the other stuff?"

"If you're asking if I know about the torture, I do. The fact that you're calling me tells me you're having some difficulties."

I sighed. It figured, but I couldn't say it surprised me. "Cecilia, it's been five months. The images keep…they keep popping up in my head and I can't get them to stop. I thought being at the gym would help me keep them out, but it's not working. I kept spacing out today giving one of my students some private lessons."

"Is it all of it that you're reliving, or just certain parts?"

"Mostly the water torture and…and that."

"By that, you mean…"

"…Yeah."

"Have you tried discussing it with Priss?"

"Um…no."

"Why not, dear?"

"…I don't know. I don't want to…upset her, I guess. She gets irritated when the subject comes up."

"Yumeko, despite your thoughts during your rehab that you'd been acting selfish, I think now you're doing quite the contrary. You're trying to pretend to be okay because you don't want anyone else worrying."

"You said that last time, too," I pointed out.

"I know, but let me finish. You think that by keeping busy, you'll keep those thoughts from intruding, but the reason they keep doing so is because your mind is letting you know that you need to pay attention, that you need to deal with what went on in that warehouse. You dote on your students, and that's commendable. I know you think that being a good teacher means that you have to be available at all times, but Yumeko, you have to pay attention to yourself too. You can't take care of your students if you don't take care of yourself. And you can't move on from what happened if you don't confront it."

"But I know what happened! I remember everything!" I protested. "I remember getting tossed in the van, getting locked up in the closet twice, having that rat do his finger-thing to me. I remember getting stun-gunned until I couldn't even cry anymore. I remember all of it!"

"Remembering it and dealing with it are not the same thing. Why can't you discuss it with Priss?"

"I don't see any reason to. She knows what happened. There's no point. She already warned me against letting it simmer, that she'd rather see me explode now than have it simmer for years."

"Have you exploded?"

"I've cried, yeah. And tonight at work I punched a locker enough times that I might have to get it replaced later."

"That's not exploding. You know what I mean."

"You want me to have a breakdown?"

"Something like it, yes. Something that shows that you recognize fully what happened, that you have acknowledged it and that it is real and not just a bad dream."

"But…" I sighed and bowed my head.

"Are you afraid that if you blow up, you'll hurt someone?"

"Sort of."

"Have you had a blackout since rehab?"

"No."

"Then you don't need to worry. I really think you need to talk to Priss about what you're feeling. She knows better than anyone what you're going through. Don't worry about seeming whiny or anything, all right? Taking care of yourself means not worrying about how you look. You yourself said you knew recovery isn't a road lined with roses."

"I think I was inaccurate on that. I just forgot to take into account that roses have thorns," I grumbled bitterly.

"I'm not going to make that call for you, Yumeko. If you know you need your mother's help, you need to be the one to do it."

"I've been bailed out by her…and the others…so many times. I feel bad asking for help again…"

"Bailed out in battle, yes. But that's what teammates do. But you weren't in your suit when this happened. You were just an ordinary girl having non-ordinary things happen. I think she would appreciate you asking for help in this."

"I know she's been worried…but…"

"Can you imagine someone telling you they're okay when you know they're not? That's what Priss is feeling right now. She wants to help. So accept the hand she's holding out to you, and take it without feeling ashamed. She only wants to do what a mother does. Is that so wrong?"

I sighed. "No."

Cecilia smiled. "I'm glad you agree. Now, will you call her and accept her hand?"

"…Tomorrow," I relented. "I'm tired right now."

"Good, good. Go eat something, and then go get some sleep. You look like you need it."

"That's what everyone's been telling me."

A minute later we both said our byes and hung up, and I went to go fetch something from the fridge, as if my stomach had responded to Cecilia's order to go get something to eat. Still, as hungry as I was, in the end all I could settle on was some soup and toast, having found nothing in the fridge that appealed to me at the moment.

_I don't wanna believe this is too much for me. But...it took Mom years to even fess up the truth to me. Maybe it was too much for her too. Damn. I never loved her less for what happened, and I know she doesn't love me any less, so what's…what's stopping me? Damn pride. For once, Yumeko, swallow it and just admit you need help!_

"I need help," I said out loud to myself, just to hear myself say it. "I need help. I need help. But right now I gotta eat. I gotta sleep. I gotta figure out lessons for tomorrow. Crap. Lessons. Screw that. I'll wing it. I'll fly by the seat of my pants. Worked before."


	4. Square one

_**Present day  
**__**December 24, 2057**_

Despite my plans to hop into the furo once I got home last night, I ended up not doing so. I was too tired. Still, when I woke up, the still-greasy hair was one of the first things I was made aware of. The second was that my body was hurting, all over.

"Damn," I mumbled. "I do not have the flu, no I don't…"

I pulled myself out of bed, and in spite of going slowly a head rush hit me, forcing me to grab the nightstand to keep my equilibrium. Once I got myself together I shuffled out to the kitchen and made myself some toast and soup, as I had last night. The steam from the soup felt good on my face, making me lean in closer to it and inhale deeply, the smell of miso filling my nostrils. It almost made me not want to eat it, but in the end, my stomach won over, and I inhaled the bowl of soup and chomped down the two slices of toast I'd made.

I still had to figure out lessons for today. But I figured I could come up with something on the fly. I'd probably think of something on the way to work. Once I got moving I was sure my body would start feeling better. Maybe I'd just slept wrong.

I skipped my morning jog again. I just wasn't feeling up to it, never mind that I had slept through my alarm, and I wasn't talking about my leg.

The drive to work wasn't exactly refreshing. The cold morning air normally woke me up, but all it did today was make me want to run back inside the house and go back to bed. Everything seemed to be off-kilter from what I was used to. But I was determined to get through this day. It was only one day, and even if I wasn't feeling fantastic I figured I could let Clara lead lessons if I got tired. And I could always go right to bed once I got home. All I had to do was get through this one shift, then I could finally make an attempt at Cecilia's advice and take care of myself.

But somehow, ignoring people's advice, or putting it off, always seemed to bite me in the ass. Today was no exception. When she said for me to take care of myself, she apparently meant for me to do it right away. But wasn't going to a job I liked taking care of myself?

Apparently not.

"What are you doing?" Clara gasped when she saw me. "You look horrible. You should've called and canceled today's lessons!"

"Bite me. I'm fine."

She didn't raise any more objections, and the girls, when they arrived, didn't seem to notice anything, aside from Sakura, who kept doing double-takes like I was an imposter or something. I was able to lead warm-ups, but immediately afterward Clara volunteered to do the lessons themselves, and I readily let her have at them, standing back to watch and make sure she wasn't just having the girls go through the motions.

_She's doing pretty well, actually,_ I had to concede in my head. _I bet I could just go home and leave everything to her… No. No no no. What the hell am I thinking? I'm the boss! I can't just leave her to her own devices! I'd be setting a bad example!_

The morning eventually passed, and after the lunch break Clara set about having each of the girls take a shot on the uneven bars, with Sakura going first. She went through the routine easily, even including the flip that I had broken my arm on my first attempt trying, coming out of the third flip just in time to grab the lower bar and swing herself over it. I smiled. It seemed like at least somebody in the class had been paying attention.

Diana and the others followed, and while they did good, I wasn't quite as impressed with them as I had been with Sakura. Clara had just started to point out where they should improve on when I stepped forward.

"It's ok, Clara," I said. "I can take it from here."

"Huh? What do you mean?" she asked, looking perplexed.

"It's hard to tell them what to improve on without them being shown."

"Shown? But—"

"But what?" I barked, making her wince.

"…You really wanna show 'em?"

"You don't think I can?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you were implying it. Step aside. I'll show 'em what to do." I started chalking up my hands. "Saying 'imitate Sakura' isn't enough. I'll do some moves, and as I do them, tell them what I'm doing. After I'm done, then we'll run them through the routine again."

"Show us, sensei!!" Diana cheered.

I chuckled. "Well, there you go. Okay. I will. Now watch carefully, and listen to Shirayuki-sensei."

I stood back and took a breath, stretching my arms out to the side. "Now, just because I'm doing certain moves doesn't mean any of you have to do them. But difficult moves will earn you extra points during competition, so the more you know, the better off you'll be. Now just watch and listen."

My leg twinged initially when I took off running for the bars, but otherwise behaved as I jumped up and grabbed the high bar. I could hear Clara describing each move as I performed my usual twists and jumps from bar to bar, at one point doing mid-air splits as I spun around the lower bar, switching into a regular position in the brief moment I had my body suspended above it. I threw my legs between my arms and spun again, releasing the bar to do a double-flip before falling to grab it again.

Clara explaining my moves in the background reminded me vaguely of the comm chatter I'd hear during battle. Sylia would bark out orders, Linna would relay positions of certain Boomers… For a moment it really did feel like I was in battle again, spinning around to avoid attacks, caught in a dance with the enemy before the inevitable grand finale. The way my body was hurting as I performed my flips made me feel like I'd been beaten up and was just doing my best to do what I could to finish off the Boomer. It was nothing new. I rarely came out of a battle without something hurting in the morning, but that was just how it went. Battles were very much like the workouts I was performing now, except of course I didn't have to worry about getting killed by accidentally falling from the beam or missing a grab on one of the bars.

My body pleaded for me to stop, and even Clara stopped her lecture to the students. I could hear her in the background asking me something, but I couldn't make it out. I was too into my exercise to heed her.

I did a backwards flip, releasing myself from the high bar to do my triple-backwards-flip down to the lower bar, just as Sakura had done earlier.

_My body hurts…but I don't care. This is too good right now. I don't ever wanna stop. I can do this forever…_

Coming out of the third flip, I managed to grab the lower bar, but immediately I could tell it wasn't right. I'd either grabbed it too soon or too late, but in either case, my hands slipped from the bar.

_Oh crap._

I was suspended in the air for about a half-second before losing my grip on the bar, so while it didn't end as badly as it could have, I still landed on the mat hard, slowly pushing myself to my hands and knees, shaking my head slowly while Clara ran to me, the students just behind her.

"Yumeko!" she gasped, bending down. "What happened?"

"I don't think that was supposed to happen," Sakura quipped.

I shook my head again as I pushed myself to my feet, one of Clara's hands on my shoulder. "I'm ok," I said. "You could say I…got a little too into it. Remember kids, vertigo is a bad thing."

"Like hell it was vertigo," Clara muttered.

"Hey, don't lecture me," I snapped, yanking myself away from her. "I knew perfectly what I was doing."

"I'm sure you did. That's what I'm afraid of."

"Screw you!" I marched away, and as the students parted to let me go past them, suddenly the world started to sway in front of me. The staring faces of the students suddenly split in two, making me see double of everybody.

_Ok, THIS isn't vertigo…_

"Sensei?" Diana asked, reaching out to me.

I reached out to her, but only stumbled to the side as I tried to step forward.

"I don't feel…good…"

Everybody let out a holler as I collapsed to the mat.

* * *

The next thing I was aware of was laying in a bed, something cold on my forehead. I struggled to open my eyes, and when I did so I recognized the first-aid office, with Clara sitting in a nearby chair patiently.

"You're awake," she said when she looked at me. "And keep that on," she added when I tried to remove the wet cloth from my forehead. "You're running a fever."

"I'm fine," I croaked.

"No you're not! Why did you come to work with a temp of 102.4, huh?! If you've got a fever like that, common sense says you should stay home! Y'know, do that thing called _resting_. If any of us came sick like that you'd send us home right then and there! So why do you think you're so different and think you can just work through it? You're the boss, but you're human too! This is what happens when you try to be all that, when you don't even take a bloody day off!"

I started to chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?!" she demanded, exasperated.

"It's just funny," I said. "Everyone keeps saying I need to take care of myself, but…I love this job too much. I like teaching those kids, even if they drive me nuts sometimes."

"I don't think it's the job," she said, starting to choke up. "Yumeko, is something wrong? Is something bugging you? If there is, I wanna help out."

"Nothing is bugging me," I assured her, taking the cloth off my forehead as I sat up, swaying slightly as my head began to swim anew before slowly settling down. "Nothing that you should be concerned with."

"But you've been so distracted. I know you say it's 'cause you can't believe this gym is really yours, but…but c'mon! I know it's something else! Why can't you just tell me?"

"Because there's nothing to tell you," I stated firmly. "And besides, I don't like eavesdroppers."

The girls, whom I'd seen peeking through the crack in the not-quite-closed door, immediately scrambled away from it, making Clara sigh, as she had just now noticed them.

"Well, you're the boss, so I know I can't make you do anything. But even you know you should go home. Right?"

"…Yeah," I said, giving in. "I thought the heater was just cranked up. Didn't think I had a fever. And this morning I thought I'd just slept in a weird position…"

"I can close up if you want me to stay for the rest of the day. Or we can just close up now and send them home early."

"What do you think?"

"Me?" She blinked, looking surprised I'd asked for her opinion. "I don't mind staying."

"Thanks." I shook my head. "Damn. I embarrassed myself in front of them. Some role model I am."

"Like I said, you're human. Just try not to do it again, ok?"

We both chuckled, and I managed to say, "Ok. Maybe next time I'll know better."

"Can you drive home alright?"

"I'll live."

Clara just let out an exasperated sigh as she helped me out of bed and aided me in getting to the locker room to change back into my normal clothes. She even helped me strip out of my leotard, which was embarrassing at the least, and managed to keep her mouth shut when she eyed my stomach scars. She'd seen me change before, so it wasn't the first time she had seen them, but at least she had the sense to keep her mouth shut about them. The students had always shown up after me, so they didn't even know about them, let alone had seen them. They knew about my leg injury – the sleeve made it obvious – but thankfully none had asked me to pull it down and show them.

_So I guess they just have selective manners,_ I thought wryly to myself as I pulled my shoes on, followed by my coat.

"Are you sure you can get home ok?" Clara asked again as we headed out to the main area.

"I told you, yes. I'll be fine."

"Is it safe to assume that I shouldn't show up tomorrow? Or do you think you have superhuman healing powers too?"

I gave her a look. "We'll play it by ear."

"Are you ok, sensei?" Diana asked shyly, walking up to me. "You fell pretty hard."

"That fall? That was nothing," I said. "I just have a little bit of a cold or something."

"But you fainted."

"Just let it be a lesson of why you shouldn't come in sick…"

With that, I left, with the students looking on with looks of concern in their faces. I ignored them; they were the last group of people that I wanted any sort of pity from. I was supposed to be someone that they looked up to, that they idolized, not someone to feel sorry for. Once again, pride had gotten the best of me. When I felt better I would have to make sure that they forgot all about what they had witnessed, lest they had lost respect for me.

_Gonna give 'em a good ass-whipping once I'm up to it,_ I swore in my head, driving slowly down the street. It felt strange to be out and about at this time of day. I was usually still working up a good sweat, and as such I was reluctant to just head home and rest, as needed as that may have been. I decided to stop off at the bar first; it was only two more blocks away.

"Yumeko!" the bartender exclaimed when he saw me. "You haven't been by since the robber was here! I thought you were turning down my offer!"

"I'm not," I said. "I've just been busy."

"Too busy for free beer?"

"Yeah."

He smiled and put down the mug he was cleaning. "You're not usually in this early. Something going on?"

"Nope. Just stopping by on my way home. I'll take one or two bottles from you though."

He set one bottle on the counter. "You sure you don't wanna stick around?"

"Nah, too quiet. Don't even have Football Guy here to entertain me right now."

"I'll give you one, since I know you can't carry too much on your bike."

"That's fine. That's all I want anyway."

"You got a cold? Your cheeks and nose are all red."

"I'm fine," I said curtly.

"I'm askin' 'cause it's a bad thing to mix booze and cold pills. I know from experience, it'll totally jack you up."

"I don't have any cold pills at home. I'll be fine. Thanks though."

I put the bottle in the inside coat pocket as I exited the bar and mounted my bike. Another person pitying me. Damn it. All I had was a cold! Little wonder I didn't want to stick around, though it was probably a good thing I could only take one bottle with me. If I tried taking home a whole case, I'd probably be tempted to drink the whole thing if left alone with it.

Mom was probably right. I did have an addictive personality. And Cecilia had told me that people overcoming addictions often replaced one vice with another. But I knew I wasn't like that. I never kept booze in the house, and even when I was at the bar I'd have two beers at the very most. I never went on a binge. I could only think of two times that I'd been drunk – the party I'd gotten molested at, and the night after I blew Emi up and got into a bar fight. Other than those two times, I'd been controlling myself pretty well, I thought. I was doing good, wasn't I? Wasn't I being responsible with my drinking?

After taking it slow on the road, I managed to get to my home at the top of the hill, and after entering the house and tossing my helmet aside, I pulled off my coat and shoes, taking out the free bottle of beer. I cracked it open with my bare hand and took a sip, the slightly bitter flavor coursing its way down my throat. It matched how I felt; how appropriate. It wasn't the same, though. Having one after a day of work was refreshing, relaxing. Having one now, at home, after coming home sick, just wasn't the same. It wasn't relaxing at all. It was pathetic, depressing, like I was trying to drown my sorrows.

But I didn't have any sorrows to drown, did I? It wasn't like I was trying to run away and hide in this bottle I was holding and sipping from. I knew it was stupid, and it was only now that something else had clicked in my head. This was how people became alcoholics. They'd reason with themselves and say it's only one beer. They'd use it to get away. And when that would wear off they'd get another, and another, until…

No. I had better self-control than that. But then again, the hydromorphone addiction had gotten out of hand before I even realized what deep shit I'd been in.

I pushed the half-empty bottle aside and picked up the phone, dialing a number.

It rang, and rang again. Just when I thought I'd have to leave a message, I heard the click of someone picking it up.

"Yume?" Mom said, appearing on the screen. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean what's wrong?"

"You never call at this time of day." She looked like she was trying to look over my shoulder. "Wait, you're not at work. Why are you at home?"

"Because I just am," I said, sighing. "I thought you were gonna be at the studio."

"Nah. I'm taking the day off. Been too long since I had a day to myself."

"I guess I'm having a day off too, unwillingly…"

"You look like you're sick."

"Yeah."

"Why are you calling?"

"Why are you asking me? I'm not allowed to just call my mom because I want to?!" I stopped, realizing how callous I sounded, and shook my head, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry. I'm just…out of it right now. Can you…can you come over?"

Mom smiled. "Sure. I'm on my way right now."

"Thanks."

I hung up and laid back on the couch, one arm dangling off the edge, the other bent and covering my forehead. I'd done it now. I'd finally swallowed my pride and asked for her to come over. Of course, whether I'd still be feeling so brave by the time she showed up was anyone's guess.

I could still call her and say, "Never mind, don't need you." No. That would be the coward's way out. I didn't want to think of myself as a coward. No, sometimes even Asagiris needed help with things. Mom had admitted as much. Even Asagiris had things they were afraid of.

So what was I afraid of? Facing up to the truth. The goddamned truth. It terrified me. But I had to do it. I knew I had to. But could I?

I guess I'd find out.

* * *

I dozed off for a little bit, but it mustn't have been long, because Mom still hadn't arrived when I woke up. Nervous, I went through the stack of mail that had been building up on the coffee table all week; at least it was something to keep my shaking hands busy. Bills, bills, a fan letter, a vidletter from California… I stopped and plucked that one out. It was from Xania.

"Yo, Rosho!!" she cheered when her face appeared on the vidletter player. "Hope this gets to ya in time for Christmas! Y'know, this is the great thing about bein' in college. I don't have Mom forcin' me to go to fuckin' Montana to visit her stupid relatives. The dorms shut down during winter break, but there's some girls I know who belong to a sorority, so I'm stayin' with them over break. Just tellin' Mom that I have too much studyin' to do to go hang out with her. She's believin' it too. She's probably just glad I'm out of her hair. Who cares."

She leaned back and ran a hand through her hair. "I can't believe it, girl. I haven't seen ya in person in a year and a half, since ya left for Nairobi. You oughta come back sometime! I could show ya around and we could go have some shots and go flirt with some cute guys. There's some mighty fine guys around here, I'll tell ya what. And I just drool when they're joggin' around campus with no shirts on, showin' off their six-packs. And I know I ain't the only one starin', either. All the girls do. Oh hell, maybe I should come over there sometime, once I scrap some money together! I'd love to be able to see Tokyo, see your 'hood! At least I don't gotta worry about meeting any killer Boomers, right?" She laughed out loud. "But damn, that was awesome, seein' you in your ass-kickin' finery. I kinda wish I could see that again. But I guess you're glad you don't have to do that anymore, huh? I can't blame ya. I guess you can just run that gym of yours. But hey, whatever makes you happy."

"It does…" I said to myself.

"Just let me know when you have a block of free time, and I'll try to come out there, ok? It's been too long since we got to raise hell together!"

The letter ended there, and I turned off the player and leaned back in my chair, reminiscing. It really had been that long since we'd hung out in person. A year and a half since I last saw everybody. Mikhaila, Juliana, Sara, Greg… I felt a twinge of guilt, knowing I hadn't visited since then, but it was hard. So much had happened since I had left Sacramento. What would I say? They still thought I was a Mexican girl named Rocío Monterrey. And if they saw that that girl bore a striking resemblance to a Japanese girl named Yumeko Asagiri, well, hell, how would I go about explaining that? I probably could've used the same explanation that Mom had used with Irodia's family. They knew, at least, minus the part about me being a Knight Saber. But the others didn't. I could've probably made up something about just being busy working at Linna's gym and then starting my own. It was a half-truth. But they'd figure out something was wrong. Try as I might to mask my real emotions, the way Sara was able to read me sometimes made me feel like that mask was transparent.

What the hell would I do?

A knock on the door made me jump. I got up from the chair and headed for the door, opening it to let Mom in. She wiped her boots before stepping inside, taking a concerned look at me.

"I was waiting for you to call me," she scolded. "Why didn't you tell me you were having problems?"

"I've been busy," I said, shrugging my shoulders half-heartedly.

"Too busy, I see. You went and stressed yourself sick again."

"I did not."

"Oh yes you did. You did this exact same thing back in Arizona when you were trying to outrun Genom. When we rescued you you were running a hell of a fever. And you got sick again a few days after the whole shitfest went down with ASI. And again last month, when the news about your rehab broke out." She sighed. "Sit down."

I did so, and she went and prepared some hot chocolate for me in the kitchen. She handed me the steaming mug and told me to drink it.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she asked gently as I blew at the steam to cool it down before taking a sip.

"Doing what?" I asked.

"You know what I'm talking about. Stop dodging the question."

"I've been fine, Mom. The gym is doing good, the students are finally starting to take me seriously…"

"I'm glad about the gym. But I'm not asking about that. I'm asking about you. Why are you making yourself sick again?"

I took another gulp of the hot chocolate before spitting bitterly, "Well, it's not like I'm doing it on purpose. The flashbacks…they started coming again. And it just seems like the more I try to distract myself from them, the worse they get. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in almost a week."

"Is this what you call a distraction?" She held up the half-empty beer bottle that I'd left sitting on the coffee table.

"I don't go get plastered," I said, giving her a look. "I go to the bar a couple nights a week after work, and I'll have one or two beers. That's all. I don't usually bring any home but that was a gift from the bartender for stopping that robber the other night."

"Robber? You didn't tell me about this."

I relayed the story of how the guy had come in with a paintball gun and tried to rob the place, and how I'd easily stopped him in his tracks.

"You sure that wasn't when your problems started again?"

"It wasn't," I sighed. "I wasn't doing good for two nights before that. Maybe that just accelerated everything. I don't know. It didn't seem like a big deal. Besides, it was the most exciting thing to happen in a long time."

"I guess that says something about the Asagiri standard for excitement," she said with a wry grin. "But I guess when you've grown up with paparazzi chasing you and getting to travel around the world and fighting Boomers, a regular life is pretty boring in comparison."

I shrugged. "What's a normal life, anyway? I think I'm living it, but all it's doing is giving me too much time to think."

She sighed and put an arm around my shoulders. "Yume, I know it's something you don't want to think about. I know it's something you'd rather block out like you did with parts of the summit. But this is something you have to face head-on. What those two did to you is torture. I'd be worried if you _weren't_ having any problems after what you had to go through with them."

"It's not like I blame Emi for any of it. She didn't actually take part. She just…"

"…Stood back and watched," Mom finished. "Her not doing anything to stop them means she did take part, Yume."

"But she came to her senses. She killed them right before I was about to crack! And she went to her grave feeling so sorry for what happened. I CAN'T blame her for any of it, even if she did just stand by. That wasn't the Emi I know. The one I know is the one who rescued me, the one who told me to blow her up so none of us would end up getting hurt. She cared about us! She cared about me! She considered me her big sister!" I felt the tears sting my eyes, but I did nothing to wipe them away. "She considered it her new mission: to protect me. She died doing so. I just wish I could've done something to keep her from having to die. I wish there was another way."

Mom bowed her head, shaking it slowly. "You know, I told myself the same thing for years, years, after I had to shoot Sylvie. What could I have done differently, what else I could've done to try to stop the D.D. without having to shoot her. But there was only so much time. And I had to act in the one way I didn't want to act. You did the same. You knew that Boomer would've gotten control if you hadn't blown it and Emi up. You did what you had to do. Emi knew it was the thing to do, just like Sylvie knew killing her was the only way. They both died to protect everyone else."

"But even as recently as three years ago, you didn't wanna talk about it," I said, trying in vain to keep from choking up.

"I told you how I was back then. I didn't let myself get close to anybody, because I'd already lost so many people. And having to kill her right when I'd started to open myself up to her, to another person again… It killed me. I killed a part of myself the night I shot her. I don't think that outside of your aunts, I ever let myself get close to anybody again… Not until you came along." She looked at me. "I'm seeing it in you too. You lost Michiko, and then for the better part of a year, in a way you lost us too. And then just when you were getting to know Emi you had to kill her. It sucks. I know it sucks."

"I'm not mourning Emi," I said, bowing my head, closing my eyes. "I have nothing to mourn over. I'm proud of her. I only wish I could've had that same kind of bravery."

"You did. You do," Mom assured me. "The summit. You stormed in against Sylia's orders to come save the rest of us. It was by a sheer miracle that you survived that night. And don't believe for a moment that the rest of us don't appreciate what you did, because we do. You know we do."

"I was sixteen. I was stupid."

"But you'd do it again. Right?"

"Of course."

She smiled. "I know you would. And you know I'd do the same for you."

"I know," I replied quietly.

We were both quiet for a moment, with Mom pulling away from me briefly to gather her thoughts. She knew I hadn't called her here just to talk about Emi and the things we'd had to do in the past, despite our hearts begging for the contrary.

"I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did," she began. "But I guess not knowing how long you were there probably had a hand in that. If you'd known you put up with that shit for two days, how would you have reacted?"

"I'd probably be wondering why the hell nobody had come yet," I confessed. "I didn't care how long it'd been. It'd already been too long."

"I don't know how I would've handled it. But I wasn't there. I wouldn't know until I get into a situation like that. Tell me about it."

I glared at her. "Why?! I told you before!"

"So tell me again," she implored. "Get it out of your system. The more you talk about it, the more you can work through it."

"I'm sick of going through it. I relive it in my head every day! I'm sick of hearing Bruce's interrogations, hearing him asking me the same stupid fucking things over and over and over!" I jumped up off the couch and began pacing. "I'm sick of Nezumi's stun gun, of his kicking me and his cackling and his hands on my body! I'm sick of hearing that water pouring down on top of me! I'm sick of seeing things that aren't there!"

"What are their names again?"

"Bruce! Bruce and Nezumi! Bruce and the RAT!"

Mom clasped her hands together, narrowing her eyes as she urged me on. "What did Nezumi do? What did Bruce do?"

"Nezumi tried to touch me and I broke his nose. He locked me in the closet with my hands cuffed and with a bag over my head and plugs in my ears. He and Bruce took me out and strung me up, forcing me to stand. They ate in front of me, thinking my hunger would make me talk. Nezumi…the RAT…took me down and…and he shoved his fingers in me. He tried to rape me but I pissed on him before he could get that far! I got locked in the closet again, then Emi took me out and stripped me down to my underwear, then she strung me up in another room where I got fans blowing on me and ice water poured on me. Bruce interrogated me while the water was pouring, and I was trying so hard not to talk! So hard!" I ground at the tears in my eyes. "It was so hard not to talk! And then I got taken down again, redressed, and the rat shocked me with his stun gun! So many times! I cried and begged for him to stop, but he wouldn't! He shocked me over and over!" I jabbed with my arm, making the same motions he'd been making. "And then Emi went nuts and killed them both!"

She nodded slowly. "Tell me again. What did Nezumi do?"

"He tried to rape me! He had his dick out and was ready to go!"

"Again. What did he do?"

"I told you!! He tried to rape me!! The son of a bitch touched me!"

"He did more than that. I want you to tell me exactly what he did."

"Again, I TOLD YOU!!!"

"The term, Yume. Use the term, the word. Acknowledge it's what he did."

"He didn't rape me!! Using his fingers wasn't rape! It…" I dropped to my knees, suddenly wracked with horror. "It wasn't…he just tried…he…"

Mom got down on the floor with me, clamping her hands down on my shoulders. "Yume. Say it. Even if you don't want to. You need to trust me. Say it," she urged. "Whether it was his fingers or his dick, you know what it was."

"But it wasn't!"

"Spit it out. Just get it out. Let it out."

The images were going rapid-fire through my mind now. Nezumi cuffing my wrists behind my back again… Nezumi jumping on top of me, yanking my shorts down… Nezumi pulling my panties down, feeling along the insides of my thighs… Nezumi pushing his fingers inside…

I screamed and put my hands to my head.

"He raped me. The bastard raped me!! The rat!! He did that to me! He put his fingers in there! He raped me!!"

I collapsed against Mom and began to sob.

She wrapped her arms around me and held me close. I could hear her crying as well. "There, Yume," she whispered. "You did it. You said it. It's ok. As long as you said it. Things'll be ok now. I didn't want to force you to say it, but I had to. It's the only way I know to get you to feel better. You have to just spit it out."

"But…I'm…I'm still a virgin," I cried. "Aren't I?"

"Yes," she said. "You're still a virgin until the day you give yourself to somebody out of love. That moment is something no one else can take away from you. Rape isn't about sex. It's not sex at all. It's all about the power the man wants over somebody else. Whatever he uses, if the girl is a virgin, she'll still be a virgin afterwards."

"Because it's not sex…" I repeated. "I have a hard time believing that for some reason. And that you of all people would believe that."

"It's all in what you want to believe. If a guy does manage to stick his dick in a virgin, and she believes her virginity is gone now, she's just given him that much more power. Now, even if you believe like that, you're still a virgin since he used his fingers and not his dick." She smiled. "I refuse to give your father, if you could call him that, any of that power. It's taken me a long time to talk about it, but I had better things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like raise you. I wanted to raise a good person. I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. I just wanted to focus on you, help you accomplish whatever you set your mind on doing. I wasn't going to let what he did take over my life. I still wanted to be a singer, and after you were born, a mom. And I set out to do just that. Being a mom has been my toughest gig ever. Tougher than being a singer or a Knight Saber. But it's one I'm glad I took on."

I bowed my head. "You've been a good mom."

"I tried my best. And I promise you…" She stroked my cheek. "This shit you're going through now, it will get better. But you have to admit that it did happen. Distracting yourself with seven-day workdays at the gym is not going to help you in doing that."

"Heh. Guess not. Found that out the hard way, I suppose. But…I wasn't like this after the summit."

"Yeah, you were. You had all those nightmares and panic attacks, and even had that one blackout at school, remember? But whether you know it or not, you did fight to get through that. That's what your therapy was. You struggling to walk and do your gymnastics again, that was you fighting through what happened there. Now you gotta do something similar to get through this. I think I just helped you through one of the first steps."

"I'm sorry I've been such a pussy about this."

"You haven't been," she assured me. "I know you didn't want to talk about it, and I can't force you to. Like I said, I'd have been more worried if it didn't faze you at all. Just don't go and do this again, ok? Me and your aunts, we do worry about you, especially since you're not as close anymore as we'd like you to be. I know you wanted to live out here, so I'm letting you do what you want, but I do want you to keep us updated. I know it's that damn Asagiri pride we both have going, but I'm your mom. You don't gotta be so full of it around me. Let me be a mom once in a while."

I was finally able to let out a chuckle. "Okay."

"You are still a kid, you know."

"Yeah."


	5. For every ending

_**Three years prior  
**__**May 3, 2054**_

Michiko and I were a month into our second year of high school. It was that brief span of time where she and I were different ages. She had turned sixteen two months before, but I was still fifteen. I wouldn't be sixteen myself until next month. I couldn't wait. It was then that I could have my license and get a motorcycle of my very own. No more taking the bus to school, oh no, not for me. I wouldn't have to put up with that for much longer. Yes, once I hit sixteen I would make sure to get that '54 Kawasaki Ninja I'd been eying at the local bike dealer. Mom had said she'd "see what she could do" about getting me it, which made me all the more excited.

"You're sixteen now, Micchan. You could go get a car, couldn't ya?" I asked during lunch break one day.

"They're too expensive," she said, slurping up her udon noodles. "Dad says it's impractical when I can just take the bus like most other people."

"But buses run late and break down and stuff. Imagine doing things without having to schedule them around the freakin' bus!"

"It'd be nice. But then, that's what I'll have you for once you get that motorcycle you want," she teased, sticking out her tongue at me.

"Oh, you're mean!" I said with a laugh. "There's an upside though. Since Kihi doesn't make us wear uniforms, at least I wouldn't look stupid driving to school wearing a sailor suit uniform. I dunno if I could put up with that."

"You could've come in regular clothes and changed once you got here. But you're right. It would kinda look funny," she agreed, trying not to crack herself up at the image that I was sure was going through her mind right now. "Do you know how to drive one though?"

"Yeah. Mom's been teaching me, but her bike is so souped-up. It took me a while to be able to handle the thing."

"What color are you gonna get?"

"The one I saw at the dealer is purple. It looks sooo cool. I oughta take you to see it!"

"Nah. I don't think I could stand to see you get attached to it and then get broken up about it when you end up not getting it for your birthday."

"You're so ruthless!" I remarked with exasperation, making her giggle. "Mom said she'd see what she could do! I'm sure she'll get it for me! Maybe if I win all gold at the NHK Cup in two weeks that'll convince her!"

Michiko took a sip of her drink. "You think you can do that?"

"Yeah! No prob! If I do good there and in the next few competitions, maybe I'll even get to go to Nationals, or Worlds!"

"If you don't get suspended again," she reminded me nonchalantly.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, dismissing her. Today was my first day back from a three-day suspension. A minor scuffle in the parking lot after school had turned into a major brawl, with almost a dozen kids involved. Most had gotten away with one day of in-school suspension, but since I'd been one of the instigators I was handed a more severe punishment.

"How many times did you get suspended last year again? Remind me. Four?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Like I really care. If the jerks would just learn not to get me angry—"

"They LIKE making you angry. I think they just like seeing a girl who's actually willing to throw a punch."

"Whatever."

After school Michiko wanted to head home right away so we could study for an English test coming up next week, but I managed to convince her to take a side trip to the mall. Had to fit in some playtime in between all the bouts of work time, after all, even if sometimes I took the initiative and took some unscheduled 'vacation days' on my own. The only reason I didn't ditch more than I did was because I'd been threatened with getting kicked off the gymnastics team if I didn't come at least semi-regularly and keep my grades at least semi-decent. What a crock. Life was too short for homework.

"When does Priss' new CD come out?" Michiko asked, eyeing an outfit through a store window.

"Don't look at me. She's still recording it. I guess some of the bigwigs are throwing a fit about some of the songs they want cut but that she wants on there."

"Really?"

"Yeah, some crap like that. I think she's gonna try to record a few extra songs just in case those other ones do get cut, so she has something to put on the CD. Unless they complain about those extra songs too."

"If they complain about all of them she won't have a CD to put out at all!"

"They want her to record some more poppy tunes, but you know she's not the poppy type. She said she could always just go start up her own label if they're not gonna let her record what she wants."

"Why doesn't she, then?"

I shrugged. "Not something for me to worry about, she says. So I'm not gonna."

I didn't have to worry about Mom's recording. Even if she did come home and bitch about how some no-name recording executive wanted her to change the lyrics in this song or that, she always eventually came out on top. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to finish the CD either, although it had been five years since the Replicants had released their last one. She'd say she'd work on it for two years if that was what it took to get everything she wanted on there.

"Did I tell ya she's been borrowing my English textbook a lot?" I said, laughing to myself as I turned to Michiko, only to find her staring off at something. "Yoo-hoo. Earth to Michiko."

"It's Masahiro," she breathed, letting out a dreamy sigh.

"Masa-who?"

"Masahiro!!" she yelled, waving as she ran over to the last group of guys I thought I'd ever see her with. It was a group of three guys, all clad in leather and chains. One had a head of nondescript brown hair, one was a skinhead, and one had a Mohawk dyed bright red. Masahiro was apparently the one with the normal head.

"Yo, babe!" he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "What're you doin' here?"

"Just window-shopping. Yumeko! Come over here!"

I grimaced and begrudgingly walked over to them. "Not the type of guy I thought you'd be into," I admitted.

"We've been dating for two weeks," she revealed.

"Two weeks?! You didn't tell me anything!"

She smiled shyly. "Sorry. But I wanted to see if it was going anywhere first before I told you. Masahiro, this is Yumeko."

"Hey there," he said, nodding his head. "Think I've seen you around at school a couple times."

"You go to Kihi?"

"Yeah, once in a blue moon. I only go now 'cause I get to see my chick here."

"Your chick?"

The guy with the Mohawk was leering at me over Masahiro's shoulder. "Since he's got your friend, you mind if I snatch you up?"

"They're both mine," Masahiro laughed, almost knocking the wind out of me as he pulled me and Michiko both close to him. "Don't you dare touch either of 'em. They're my sexy things."

"I don't remember saying I'm yours," I warned.

"Any friend of Michiko's is a friend of mine." He released us, then turned to Michiko and held her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. "Me and my buds ought to be going. I'll be seeing you later, chicky." He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, making me bristle. How dare he touch her so intimately!

"Bye," she said, sighing dreamily again as Masahiro and his friends walked off. "Ah, isn't he so cool?"

"Hard to judge since I've only known him for two minutes," I groaned. "I don't like his Mohawk buddy though. How the heck did you get into a guy like that?"

"It just happened. He was passing by my apartment building and somehow we just struck up a conversation. He seemed so surprised that I hadn't been snatched up by another guy by now."

"You don't look like his type."

"What are you thinking is his type? Someone like you?"

I blushed. "I didn't…hey…I didn't say that."

She smiled and pointed teasingly at me. "Oh, but look! You're blushing!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are! You think he's cute! Admit it! You're jealous that he's not dating you!"

"Why would I be jealous?!" I retorted, feeling my face burning by now. "Of a flunkie like that who smelled like he hadn't taken a bath in a week?! No way!"

She just giggled. "Sure. Sure. I believe you."

Michiko couldn't get that smile off of her face the whole time we were at the mall, and on the bus back to her apartment building. I couldn't believe it. Why wouldn't she tell me she had a crush on a guy, that she was dating said guy? Was it too embarrassing? I wouldn't know – I'd never had a crush on anybody myself, although that night, as I headed home from Michiko's place after our study session, I had to admit to myself that Masahiro was kinda good-looking, in a rugged sort of way. He didn't have any tattoos or piercings from what I saw; in fact, he looked out of place next to his two buddies. Was he just putting on airs to impress Michiko, or did he really think himself that much of a badass?

_Why the hell do I care so much anyway?_, I thought, shaking my head.

Two days later was Saturday, the weekend. As per my usual weekend routine, I didn't get out of bed until almost noon…although my dreams had been strange. I'd dreamt that a guy had driven up to me, offering me a ride on his motorcycle. The guy was Masahiro. We drove around town all night, raising hell. It was when he dropped me off and leaned in for a kiss that I woke with a start, wondering why on earth he of all people was in my dreams.

_No no. He's a biker. Bikers ride motorcycles. And I've been wanting that purple one at the dealer's,_ I thought, trying to convince myself. _It was probably just me wishing I had that bike right now. Bikes don't drive themselves._

I splashed my face with cold water several times. "God dammit!!"

"What is it?" Mom called out from the living room.

"Nothing, Mom!" I yelled back.

I took the bus over to Michiko's building. I still had a mountain of homework to do, but I didn't wanna spend all weekend cooped up at home working on that. I wanted to goof around with Micchan. It wouldn't hurt her; she was probably all done with hers by now, anyway.

"Oh, Michiko's not here," Mrs. Ishiodori said when she answered the door and I inquired about her. "She left about an hour ago with Masahiro."

"Left?! Where to?"

"She said he was going to indulge her with a trip over to Akihabara, then they were going to go see a movie."

"Ah shoot. She didn't tell me anything."

"Really?"

"Nuh-uh, nothing." I sighed glumly. Just as suddenly as I'd found out about her new boyfriend, I felt cut out of her life.

"I'll tell you what. When she comes back I'll give you a call, ok? I'm sure she's not leaving you out on purpose. She's just excited, you know?"

"No. I don't. I thought she'd at least bring me along so I could get to know the guy."

"Are you jealous?"

"No…"

I turned and walked away, feeling my cheeks burning again. What the hell was coming over me?! Was I really jealous? If so, of what? The fact Masahiro had chosen Michiko and not me? The fact Michiko was now spending more time with him than me? The fact that I had to 'share' Michiko now? This whole thing was just stupid. I'd never felt like this before. Was Michiko, my best friend, officially competition for men's attention now? I never cared about getting attention from men before. I got it, of course, but I never wanted it. But now that Michiko was 'taken,' what did that mean? I'd thought she was too much the cutesy type for any guy to like. Didn't men like tomboys like me? Why the hell was I jealous if I didn't even seek men's attention?!

"I'm not ready for this crap," I moaned as I reluctantly sat down at my desk at home and began working on my homework. I had no reason to do anything else if Michiko wasn't there with me.

By the time I was done, it was early evening, and I could hear thunder clapping outside, followed by a torrential downpour. That time of year again. I sighed with relief. It was probably a good thing that I hadn't gone out, after all. I hated getting caught in the rain unprepared. The sleeveless denim jacket I was currently wearing certainly wasn't adequate protection against that kind of weather.

I heard the phone ring in the living room. I yawned and sauntered out, picking up the receiver. "'Ello?" I said lazily.

"Yumeko!" Michiko exclaimed. On the screen of the vidphone, she looked absolutely drenched. "Um, is Priss there by any chance?"

"No, she went to the gym with Aunt Nene and the others. Why?"

"Oh… Well, I need a ride over to your place."

"Where are you at?"

"I'm at 2nd and Oxbury."

"Oh, that's about two kilometers away. I'll meet you there." I suddenly realized something. "Wait…weren't you out with Masahiro? What happened?"

She suddenly looked like she was about to cry. "It's a long story. I'll tell you when you come. Can you hurry up?"

"Sure, sure. I'm coming. Hold on."

_Don't tell me he ditched her,_ I thought as I pulled on my raincoat and dashed out, practically jumping down the flights of stairs before running out of the building and down the street. It began to rain harder, and by the time I was halfway to the intersection Michiko was at, my lungs were burning from the effort to get to her quickly. I stopped for a moment to gather my strength, then took off running full speed ahead once more.

Michiko was shivering inside the phone booth when I finally arrived, about ready to drop to my knees from exhaustion. I didn't think I'd ever run so hard or so fast in my life. "Michiko," I wheezed. "What's going on? Did he ditch you or something?"

"Something like that," she said, hugging herself as she shivered. "You didn't have to run."

"Yeah I did. You told me to hurry."

I handed her my jacket, despite her concerns I'd catch a cold if I did, but I insisted. We waited for the next bus to come, which didn't arrive for another twenty minutes, but it made for a much faster trip back to my apartment. Once back there, I handed her a towel, which she used to dry off her hair after she took it down from its usual looped position.

"So what did that jerk do? Leaving you in the rain…I oughta strangle him," I growled.

"I don't know what happened," she said, hanging her head. "He took me in his truck since he didn't want to chance me getting hurt on his motorcycle, he said. We went to Akihabara and had a nice time. Didn't buy anything, but we had fun just looking around. Then we went to see a movie, and that was nice too. It was raining when the movie let out, but he said he'd give me a ride home. Then on the way back, he decided to pull over into an empty lot, and…he started kissing me."

"Kissing you?"

"He was kissing me in the theatre too, but he got really into it in the truck after he pulled over. I was afraid somebody would see us, but he insisted, and kept going. He kissed my neck, and kicked the seat back so I was laying down. Then he put his hands under my shirt and lifted it up…"

I blushed. "You made out with him?"

Her face was red by now as well. "It went farther than that… He was making me feel so good, but I was afraid of going too far, but he said it would be all right. He said he'd take care with me. I was feeling so good…and before I knew it, we were…"

"Oh crap…you didn't!"

She nodded.

"Micchan!!"

"I know, I know," she said, looking flustered. "I should've said no, but everything was happening so quickly… And then…it was over, and he kissed me and thanked me, and said he'd drop me off at home. But then after he pulled out of the lot, he went in a different direction, and after he drove about five blocks he suddenly told me to get out of the truck! He practically pushed me out, and then he drove off! He just…left me there!" She started to cry. "Oh Yumeko! I'm so stupid!"

"You're not stupid," I said, sitting next to her, although I was just as much in shock as she must've been. He slept with her, then just dumped her somewhere? What kind of man would do such a horrible thing? He had her heart in his hands, and he just squished it like it was nothing. No…he wasn't a man at all. He was a player, a rotten bastard who'd only gotten close to her so he could bed her. That was all he'd wanted all along. "…I'm the stupid one."

"No, no! You're not stupid, Yucchan! I should've wondered why he liked someone mousey like me instead of someone pretty like you! I DID wonder, but…I liked the attention. I felt special…"

"I'm stupid because I didn't see what he was after. I wondered why he liked you so much too. Geez. I really am stupid. You were right. I was jealous. Now I'm feeling stupid for feeling that way."

"I can't believe I fell for him." She bawled into my shoulder. "I'm such an idiot! He had me around his finger and I didn't even know it! Yucchan! How could I have been so stupid?!"

"Stop it. You're not stupid." I hugged her. "He's the stupid one for messing with a friend of mine. I'll beat him to a pulp if you want me to. I'll castrate him. I'll hang him from the gym ceiling by his balls, if he's got any! Anything you want me to!"

"No, don't," she begged. "I don't want you to get in trouble!"

"Trouble?! Ha! This'll be way worth any trouble I get into! If he screwed with you, he's gotta answer to me!" I stood up. "So, where does this so-called man live? Lemme at him!"

"No!!" She started to bawl again. "Don't go anywhere! Please!"

Her show of emotion caught me off guard. I'd never seen her cry so hard before. I couldn't bring myself to leave her alone, not like this. I sat back down and hugged her again. "Ok. I'll stay. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you…"

It could have very easily been me in Michiko's position. I knew that now. If even I had started to crush on him, then it could have been my emotions he toyed with. It could've been me left in the rain after being seduced. This guy, he really was a pig just like his Mohawked friend. Was that really all that members of the male sex were after? It sickened me.

It wasn't till Monday morning, two days later, that I got my revenge. Not by beating him up, though. That would've been too obvious. I decided to hit him below the belt. As a biker – or at least a wanna-be one – his pride and joy was his motorcycle. I arrived early at school just to watch him arrive and park, to be sure I knew which one was his. Once he was inside, I walked up to it, and with a maniacal grin pasted on my face, I took out my house key and set to work.

Imagining what his reaction would be was enough for me, as I planned to be long gone by the time my work would be discovered. Into the side of his bike I had etched a caricature of a man holding his crotch, next to it written, in English, "NO BALLS." And for good measure I slashed the tires too.

Seeing Michiko's delighted reaction as she told the story of what Masahiro's reaction was was priceless. As long as it made her smile, it was worth it.

* * *

_**Present day  
**__**December 25, 2057**_

My aching leg woke me up. Alas, it wasn't the only thing aching. My whole body was sore, just as much as it had been yesterday, maybe even a little worse. I groaned and rolled over in bed, prying my eyes open to look at the time. 9:07 AM.

"Nine o'clock?! Oh shit!!" I bolted up in bed, only to give myself a true case of vertigo, as my head started to spin. I groaned and laid back down slowly, holding a hand to my head. How could I have slept in for so long?!

"Still so noisy in the morning," I heard Mom chuckle as she brought in a bowl of what smelled like miso soup. "I figured you'd be waking up any time now."

"You're still here?" I asked, still feeling like I was in a fog. I could barely recall the events of yesterday. I knew I'd collapsed at the gym and come home, and that I'd called Mom. But everything after I'd finally broken down and started crying seemed so…vague.

"You thought I'd leave you when you're like this?"

"How long have I been asleep?"

She looked at the clock. "Nine o'clock now, so…I'd say about sixteen hours."

"WHAT?!"

"So what? You're sick. Plus you said you hadn't slept well the last week. You needed it."

"But…sixteen hours? You mean I passed out sometime yesterday afternoon?"

"Yeah. After you got done crying we watched some TV for a while and then I saw you were dropping off, so I had you change into your PJs and head to bed."

"I don't remember… Damn. I slept deep too. I didn't even dream." I sat up and took the bowl from her, sipping the liquid slowly.

"At least take Sundays off. You don't have to be available every day of the week just to give off the impression you're a good teacher. It only tells people you have no life."

"I don't. I work, go to the bar, sometime grab a couple groceries at the store, and then come home. I don't really do anything."

"Why not?"

"I don't have any friends. And don't even suggest I hang out with Clara. I see her all the time at work. If I see her outside of that it just keeps me in that work mindset. Once work is done I want to relax."

"Again, hard to do when you're working seven days a week. Haven't you tried making any?"

"Clara's…a _nakama_ at most," I said quietly. "Michiko was a _tomodachi_, and she's gone. Xania's a _tomodachi_ but she's busy with school, although I did get a letter from her saying we need to hang out again sometime. Emi…I want to say Emi was a _tomodachi_ too."

"You're not a Knight Saber anymore, Yume. You don't have to worry about putting anybody you make friends with in danger now."

"Not a…" The suggestion almost horrified me. "Of course I'm still a Knight Saber."

"The OMS is gone. We're not gonna have to go out anymore." Mom suddenly widened her eyes, as if something had dawned on her. "Oh shit… I get it now. That's why."

"That's why what?"

"Don't tell me you were working out every day just to keep in shape in case you had to go out in your suit again."

"…That was part of it," I admitted, staring down into my bowl. "Besides, you guys went to the gym every week for nineteen years in case they ever came out again. Why shouldn't I keep in shape too?"

"That was different! It was red tape keeping Genom tied up for that long. This time it's the fact they have no more OMS. It's permanent, Yume!"

"They'll just try to make another one, and then in ten years we'll have to do it all over again, except you and the others'll be too old! I'll be the only one!"

"Stop it!" she snapped. "Don't even think about that! Let Sylia do that! You just go and enjoy your life, ok? You only get one shot at it, and I'll be damned if I let you worry it away! The only thing you should be concerned with is your gym. Okay? That's it. Take care of that. That's all you were ever supposed to worry about. Not about fighting Boomers. Never."

She stopped and ran her fingers through my stringy hair. "Look at you. You haven't taken a shower in days. Go on and take one. It'll make you feel better."

"I keep forgetting about it, keep putting it off. I guess it's been about four days," I said.

"So go do it. Or I'll throw you in there myself!" she threatened, grinning evilly.

"No thanks."

I handed her my now-empty bowl, which she took out to the kitchen while I stripped down and went into the shower room. I shuddered as I ran my hands over my hair; it felt far more greasy than was acceptable. I definitely needed to wash it out. I normally tried to wash it every other day, if not every day. The fact it'd been four days must've meant I really was in a funk. I yawned and turned on the shower, letting it warm up before stepping in.

The water felt strange as it ran over me, but I couldn't put my finger on as to why. I scrubbed the shampoo into my hair, letting out another yawn as I turned and let it beat against my back. Ah, so much better than having to bundle up in the cold. I could just stay here in the shower and stand under the hot water…

A light bulb went off in my head. Standing? Water?

I stood there in shock as the water continued to run over me, slowly rinsing the shampoo from my hair. Here I was, standing under the water, letting it run into my eyes, and I wasn't freaking out. It was getting into my mouth and even into my nose a little bit, and I was fine. My heart wasn't even racing. I was perfectly calm.

I began cackling madly, hugging myself as my wet bangs stuck to my forehead, the ends tickling my eyes. I didn't feel the urge to get them out, nor was the fact my hair was sticking to my back an issue. It was all okay! I started dancing in the shower, laughing out loud. This was it! Finally, something normal that I could enjoy again!

"Mom! MOM!!" I hollered.

I heard her come running. "What, Yume?!" she asked, sounding frantic. "What's wrong?!"

"Nothing!!" I jumped out of the shower, and despite the fact I was standing stark naked in front of her, I didn't even care. "Look! I can actually take a shower again! I can take a shower!! I don't have to wait to come home from Genki Dash to get clean anymore! I can actually take a shower!!"

Mom smiled. "'Bout time. Avoiding pools is bad enough, but I can't have ya avoiding showers now, can I?"

"Not anymore!" I cheered. "I'm ok! I'm ok!!"

"Let's see if you can get back in there now, before you get yourself even sicker," she said with a grin.

I hopped back into the shower instantly, squealing at the feel of the hot water again. "Look! I did it! See?! Ha ha!!"

I heard Mom leave, chuckling to herself, and after she did so, I slid down to the floor of the stall, hugging myself, but not in fear this time. This time, I was relishing the feel of the water, not recoiling from it.

It was a small step, but at last, I had taken something back.

* * *

After my shower I got dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and some cargo shorts – if I wasn't planning on going anywhere today I could wear what I wanted, despite the temperature outside – and headed out to the living room, where Mom was relaxing on the couch watching TV.

"I thought you'd drowned," she joked. "You were in there for a good forty-five minutes."

"So? I wanted to make sure it wasn't a fluke."

"Feeling better now?"

"Yeah." I flopped down next to her.

"Don't you wanna blow-dry your hair?"

"Still making sure it wasn't a fluke," I said, although I knew that it would take hours to completely air-dry. "Taking another day off from recording?"

"Yeah. It's Christmas, so everyone is probably gonna be going to parties and stuff anyway. Nobody would've wanted to work."

"Gonna go party with Max and Hiroshi then?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Ah, I must be getting old. The notion of partying isn't quite as exciting as it used to be."

"What happened to the Asagiri standard for excitement?" I joked, turning her own words on her.

"Touring is where it's at, my dear," she said with a grin. "Once we put the new record out, I'm heading straight outta town. Been too long both for the fans and for me. I miss it."

"Got a name for the record yet?"

"We're going over a few ideas. But nothing's sticking yet. Can't even decide if we want the title to be in English or Japanese. Oh yeah, I'll probably still be needing an interpreter on tour. You sure you don't wanna tag along?"

"Dead sure," I said with a smirk. "Being your interpreter when I was eleven and twelve was bad enough. Not so keen on doing that again at nineteen. Besides, I've got the gym to run."

"Right, right."

Mom stretched out and continued watching her TV show, while I sat there with her, not watching it, but zoning out, letting my mind wander. This was what a normal life was supposed to be, if only the Asagiri version of it. Making plans for the future, going to work every day to whip the subordinates into submission… Hell, that was probably everyone's version of a normal life. With the exception of my three years as a Knight Saber, I'd probably had a more normal life than I originally thought. Making friends, doing homework, trying to find out for myself just who this person named Yumeko Asagiri was…

Yeah. That seemed normal enough, I suppose. Didn't everyone do those things, struggle with those things?

There was a knock on the door, which threw me off. Mom was already here, so who else could it have been? Sylia, Nene, and Linna were all likely working today.

"I'll get it," Mom offered, standing up and walking past me as she headed to the door to answer it. I leaned forward in my seat and craned my head to see who it would be.

"Hello!" came a cheery and familiar voice as Mom opened the door, which made my eyes go crossed. No way!

"Oh crap!" I said out loud, jumping up and running to the door. "Clara?! What the hell…?" I looked behind her, and it wasn't just Clara at the door. Sakura, Diana, and the other students were there with her, all bundled up against the cold, but looking unusually cheery otherwise. "What are you all doing here?!"

"You weren't feeling well so we came to cheer you up," Diana replied.

"Shirayuki-sensei said you hadn't called, so she assumed lessons were canceled, but she called everyone anyway and told us to come over," Sakura added.

"Really, you didn't need to," I insisted, feeling my face turn a bright red. "I'm feeling better. Now get outta here before I make you all start doing workouts in the yard!"

Mom let out a chuckle. "Looks like one of them has something for you."

"Huh?" Indeed, one of the other students was holding something in her hands, covered with a blanket. She walked up to me and handed it to me.

"Here," she said cheerfully. "Your mom was actually the one who told us all to come up. Said you were lonely."

"I'm not lonely! I'm—" My voice was cut off when I heard a meow coming from the blanket-covered thing I was holding. "…A cat?"

I set it down on the porch and lifted up the blanket, revealing a carrier. Through the barred door I could see a tiny black kitten huddled in the back, staring at me with amber-colored eyes. Stunned, I opened the door and pulled it out, holding it close as I stood back up.

"What's with the kitten?" I asked in a low voice. "I've never kept animals before."

"Your mom said since you live up here by yourself, that you could probably use some company. Something to take care of, someone who'll greet you when you come home at the end of the day."

_Like Emi…,_ I mentally finished before turning to Mom. "This was your idea?"

She nodded. "Something to break the monotony, you could say. She'd make for a natural stress reliever too, so I wouldn't have to worry about you making yourself sick again."

"We know something's going on," Clara said, "and although it's probably none of our business, we all did agree with Priss and say you needed something else to focus on besides the gym, something that'll actually love you back."

I looked down at the kitten in my arms. She was a long-hair, and at her size the fur just made her look like a little puffball. She mewed and licked my finger when I went to scratch her chin. I felt a twinge of nostalgia looking down at this tiny kitten. Her fur was raven-black, reminding me of the dominant color of Michiko's hair, and her eyes were the same color as the amber heart on the necklace I had gotten her for her seventeenth birthday. She had loved kittens, even though she never got to own one herself.

"Michiko," I moaned, and suddenly, tears came flowing from my eyes, running down my cheeks and dripping off my chin.

Clara took a step forward. "Yumeko? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing…" I held up the kitten in my hands. "She's absolutely adorable. If Michiko were here she'd probably try to take her away from me."

Mom and Clara both laughed. "Probably," Mom agreed.

Diana, who I hadn't even noticed had left, came running back from Clara's car with several bags. "We have you all ready to go with her too!" she declared. "We brought you a dish, and a litter box, and litter, and food…"

"I don't think I'm ready for this," I whined, making everyone laugh. Taking care of a gym was hard enough, but another living thing?! "T…thank you, you guys."

"You're welcome," Clara said.

I excused myself for a moment and headed to the bedroom with the kitten, setting her down on my bed while I got down on my knees on the floor and watched her walk around. It was true. This was something I could nurture besides the gym, something that would love me unconditionally, no matter how bad of a mood I was in or how bad of a day I'd had. If nobody else could come help me out right away, at least I'd have this fuzzball here. I could feel my recent worries fade into the background just watching her, so innocent, so new to life.

That was probably entirely the reason why they gave me her, but it was working.

I could hear a voice in my head dictating a name. It sounded like Michiko.

"Calisto?" I picked up the kitten and scratched her tummy. "Calisto. Yeah. You look like a Calisto to me."

"You ok back there?" Mom called.

"Yeah." I headed back out with Calisto in my arms.

"You look like you're feeling better already," Clara pointed out.

"I guess I am," I said. "Which means you all better get going so you can relax, because tomorrow I'll be back to whipping your sorry asses into shape!"

All of the students except for Sakura giggled and started to run for the van, pretending to be scared. She looked up at me and said, "Looking forward to having you back, sensei. I think I prefer this sensei to the hard-ass I see at the gym."

I chuckled. "I'll still be a hard-ass, Sakura. But I guess we can have a little fun, too. Wouldn't hurt, I guess."

After Clara and the students left, Mom and I stood there in the open doorway, with me still holding little Calisto close. "She kinda looks like a cat version of Micchan, doesn't she?" I said, nodding at the kitten.

"Yeah. Sorta," she agreed, nodding as she saw the resemblance.

"I guess I gotta go get her a collar now," I said. "And get her some shots, and probably get her fixed…"

"See? You'd make a good mom," she teased. "What do I keep telling you?"

"Oh, don't start on THAT again! No way! And I told you before, I don't even know how to change a diaper!"

"Well, changing a litter box is kinda like changing a diaper."

"Hardly!"

"When am I gonna be a grandma, huh?" she continued ribbing me, obviously enjoying this, judging from her expression. "Tell that Craig guy to come on by so you two can get started on making me some grandkids!!"

"No way!! Calisto's probably the closest you'll ever get!"

"That her name?"

"Yup."

"Cute name. What're ya gonna name my first grandbaby?"

"Moooom!!" I chased her back into the house, with her laughing all the way.

If this was another piece of what a normal life was supposed to be, then I would gladly take it. Judging from my turnaround on this Christmas day, Irodia, if she were here, would probably say miracles had been worked by God. But I didn't celebrate Christmas, nor was I religious, nor did I believe it was fated to all happen on Christmas. The timing was coincidental, but that didn't mean I didn't appreciate what had been done.

I'd gotten some semblance of my former life back today. I was starting over in a way. And this kitten was just starting out. In helping her out, I could possibly help myself. I was feeling better already just looking at her. Better and faster-acting than anything a therapist could do.

Today I really could start over. At nineteen, I had my life back and was ready to live it again. I couldn't start from where I'd left off, but this was the closest I would get. And I'd gladly take it. Life was a series of competitions; you win some and you lose some, but there was always the next one to look forward to. Anything was possible with the next one.

_Bring it on._


End file.
